Ghost Ship
by Princepen
Summary: An obsession from the past collides with the present in dangerous ways when the TNG Enterprise crew encounters a mysterious ship in a forbidden area of space. Are there actually any ghosts in this story? I don't recall, but I said I would re-post my finished stories, so... please enjoy. I'll finish posting the rest of the chapters in a few days. Thanks! PP
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.**

Chapter 1

* * *

 **2366**

 **Somewhere on the Far Rim**

It had just hours ago passed through a beautiful multi-colored nebula. Now, the tiny one man shuttle pod tumbled over and over through a very black stretch of space. It was an oblong, white, and featureless vessel, save for a now dried bloody handprint just adjacent to the shuttle hatch. The handprint belonged to the shuttle's occupant, who was for now, barely conscious. For all he knew, for all he cared, his journey was endless. And through a blurry haze he wondered if she still loved him.

* * *

 **Approximately one day later on the** **_Enterprise_**

"You are long overdue for a vacation, Captain. Doctor Crusher tells me you've lost weight since your last physical, and I can tell just by being near you that your stress level is unhealthy." Deanna Troi walked around the desk in Picard's Ready Room and stood close to him looking down with concern and barely hidden annoyance.

Deanna Troi was a well-trained counselor; highly professional, with nearly boundless patience and poise. Nearly…boundless, that is, for Captain Picard was wearing on her famous calm. He knew he was burnt out, she knew he was burnt out, but instead of giving in, taking her advice and going on a short leave, he was working harder, almost as if he had something to prove.

He glanced at her with irritation and mumbled something, before turning back to his report.

Troi raised her eyebrows. "What did you say, Captain? I didn't quite catch that."

"I _said_ …perhaps you shouldn't stand quite so near to me if my stress level is bothering you so."

Troi nearly flinched at the level of hostility that he was projecting. But instead of taking a step backward like she really wanted to do, she stood her ground solidly. "Captain Picard…" she scolded him gently. "I am just as capable of being as stubborn as you are. You know that I am right, Captain. And you know that Doctor Crusher also recommends—"

"'Doctor Crusher _recommends_ '?" he snapped, looking up at her grumpily. "Counselor, is there no end to the plots shared between yourself and my Chief Medical Officer? Really, one of you is quite enough for me to handle, thank you." He returned his glare to the computer screen and tapped his index finger on the desk.

"Plots? Our only _plot_ , if it could be called one, is to keep you healthy sir."

He stood up abruptly and tugged on his uniform. "Well then, your…sincere, if rather _aggressive_ efforts are appreciated, Counselor," he said, moving out from behind his desk. He walked to the replicator and ordered a glass of water.

Troi laughed in surprise. "Captain, you certainly have hidden your appreciation very well. Maybe I would believe you if you would simply take a short leave to relax…. "

He sipped from his water, gazing seriously at her over the rim of the glass. "Some kind of crisis almost always comes up, preventing any meaningful time for rest. Besides, you should know by now, Counselor, it is not in my nature to relax."

Troi folded her arms over her chest. "Captain, we are all capable of pushing beyond our natural limits. You of all people should know that."

Captain Picard finished his water and put the glass down on his desk. He spun it around a few times absently then wiped the ring of condensation away with the palm of his hand. He glanced up at Deanna, his expression now open as though he was finally considering taking her advice. "What if I were to take your advice and take a brief vacation? What would you suggest?"

Deanna broke into a slow smile, unable to hide her joy at having won a small victory. She put her hand to her chest, still smiling. "Why Captain, I am completely flattered that you would ask my opinion! You know my home world Betazed is quite beautiful this time of year. The warm breeze on the shore of the Opal Sea is truly magnificent."

"Oh?" he said, feigning interest. Truthfully he had some difficulty imagining a trip to Betazed without some kind of nightmarish run-in with Deanna's mother, Lwaxana Troi.

"Yes, truly," she said getting caught up in the moment. "But the view from the cliffs bordering the sea to the west is so gorgeous it really must be shared."

He raised his eyebrows warily. "Shared?"

"Yes, with someone special."

Picard stared at her and pushed away from the desk readying for a quick escape. "Oh, I don't think so, Counselor. I prefer to vacation alone."

"Why?"

He picked up the empty glass again, as though he suddenly needed something to distract his attention.

"Captain, everyone needs a touch of romance every now and then…."

He shook his head again in disagreement. "Not me," he said firmly, as if he were determined never to catch that kind of disease.

"And so if Doctor Crusher were available to accompany you…."

He stared at her with growing trepidation, mouth open. "Oh no…oh most certainly not, Counselor." He continued to stare at Deanna, whose expression was now deadpan. Was she losing her mind, or was she just trying to push his buttons? Either way, he felt highly uncomfortable. First of all the suggestion that he and Doctor Crusher were anything but friends and colleagues was not the sort of image he intended to project. What had he done, he wondered to give Counselor Troi the wrong idea about his relationship with Beverly Crusher?

Deanna looked at him innocently. "Captain, I really do not see what the problem is. I think it is a wonderful idea."

"Counselor…Doctor Crusher and I can hardly spend five minutes together without arguing. Perhaps you are seeing something that I am missing."

 _Actually, I think that I am_ , thought Troi. "So you don't think that a quiet getaway with Beverly would be just the thing to help you relax?" She knew he was partially correct; ever since Beverly had returned to the Enterprise from Starfleet Medical just a few months ago, things between Picard and Crusher had been tense and edgy. For Deanna, it was easy to see what the tension was about, and perhaps these tensions were contributing to Captain Picard's generally grumpy mood over these last months.

But Picard and Crusher both seemed clueless as to both the source of their problem and how they could change the alternating levels of aloofness and volatility the two engaged in on a regular basis. Troi knew it wasn't so simple as her blurting out the obvious. But it didn't mean she should not encourage them to move past their unseen barriers.

He appeared ready to announce a complete reversal of his tentative agreement to embark on a vacation when his communicator chirped. "Captain Picard," Worf's booming voice sounded about as cheerful as it would ever be.

"Go ahead," Picard said, unmistakably relieved.

"Commander Riker's shuttle has arrived in shuttle bay one, sir. He claims to have brought…gifts for everyone, sir."

Deanna turned and smiled at him cheerily. "Now _there_ is a man who knows how to take a vacation."

* * *

Picard glanced up from his chair as Commander Riker strolled onto the bridge and down into the command center. He appeared so relaxed, that Picard could not help but be more than a little jealous.

"Captain," said the First Officer, looking quite satisfied with himself as he sat down next to the Captain.

Picard shifted his eyes in Riker's direction. "Number One," he said allowing a half smile. "What the hell is that on your face, Commander?" he said turning to face Riker directly.

"A tan, sir… Captain, you just would not believe the stories…" Riker grinned and then trailed off, when Picard shot him with a look that conveyed he was in no mood.

"Traveling to five different worlds in five days," said Deanna with a smirk. "I can only imagine."

"Oh, you won't have to imagine, Deanna, I will give you all the details…."

"Later of course," interrupted Picard, and then frowned looking down at the console built into the chair armrest, as it began to beep.

"Priority message coming in from Starbase 14, Captain."

Picard lifted his chin. "On screen," he ordered. The screen activated and filled with the image of a Starfleet Admiral. He wore a cobalt blue and black science uniform.

"Captain Picard…Admiral Collins here. The services of your ship and crew are needed in the Far Rim."

"The Far Rim?" Picard didn't try to hide his surprise. Years ago, he had many adventures in that region of space while assigned to a scout ship. "Surely we can't be the closest ship in the quadrant, Admiral." He wasn't familiar with Admiral Collins, but then the blonde man appeared to be a science officer, and perhaps associated outside of the usual command social circles.

"No, the Enterprise is not the closest ship. But your experience out at the Rim is something we think we can rely on for this mission, Captain. Most importantly, your discretion is required."

Picard nodded seriously. "Of course, Admiral. What exactly is it you require of us, sir?"

"A very important research ship has dropped out of communication with this station. Since it was last known to be out at the Rim, we fear the worst."

Picard nodded grimly. Orions. "Pirates?"

The Admiral's expression did not change, and he didn't answer. "We need you to track this ship down along with any survivors and bring the ship and crew back to Star Base 14. Keep me informed Captain. I will be anxiously awaiting your report." The communication cut and the screen went black.

"What was I saying earlier about sudden crises, Counselor?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

 **Starfleet Academy 2340**

Sixteen year old freshman cadet Jack Crusher stuck his index finger in between his collar and his irritated neck in an attempt to gain some relief. Maybe he was allergic to the material because it would just not stop itching. These dress uniforms were particularly itchy. But then the stodgy awards ceremony scheduled for that afternoon required appropriately itchy dress. After nine months of practically living in these cadet uniforms he knew he should have been used to them. But of course there was always something to complain about even under the most ideal conditions. He had to admit that with spring in the air, the conditions did seem nearly ideal. The upperclassmen had already graduated, and he was looking forward to ditching the uniform for a month or so, and getting out into the world for some fun.

Chewing on his bagel he eyed the girl at the end of the table and elbowed his friend in the side. "Allen...she's checking you out again," he whispered placing his elbows back on the cafeteria table. The young woman glanced up with intelligent green eyes. She seemed hardly to notice Jack, and yet was unable to take her eyes off of Allen. She was pretty in an academic sort of way. Clearly Allen's type: too bad for her Allen already had a girlfriend; Parvati, who let's face it, was stunning. Jack had on more than one occasion allowed himself to be distracted by her long silky black hair and dark skin; of course, when Allen was not looking.

Cadet Allen Harrow made a face and turned back to his assignment, not even bothering to look at the girl. Of course he knew she was there. She'd been practically stalking him these last few weeks. Didn't she know he already had a girlfriend? "Jack," he muttered, "if you paid more attention to your exams instead of watching females constantly, you'd be better off."

"Oh, I don't know about that...I know I would have less fun. By the way, why do you talk about women as though they are your lab subjects?"

Allen turned and fixed Jack with that quizzical, yet penetrating gaze he had, which sometimes made Jack feel slightly unsettled as though _he_ were one of Allen's lab subjects. Allen, a born scientist, was strange, often standoffish, but he was still his friend. And after all, he was brilliant and blessed with a dry wit, which rarely, but pleasingly revealed itself when Allen was truly happy, truly relaxed. No, this sort of openness with Allen it didn't happen often, but Jack had witnessed it enough to know that once you came to know him, Allen was a good friend to have.

"What's her name, anyway?" Jack asked, watching the girl a little more closely. He smiled at her as charmingly as possible when he caught her eye, but she scowled and looked away sharply. Slightly hurt, Jack felt more than just his skin was now irritated. Who did she think she was anyway? Okay, he wasn't her type. No need to be rude about it.

"Claudia," Allen Harrow murmured, still engrossed in his assignment.

* * *

 **Elsewhere on Campus…**

Ensign Jean-Luc Picard could tell already it was going to be a hot day. So he had figured if he was going to run he had might as well do it early in the morning when the ground was still a bit damp-before it all burned off and the air became heavier. As he ran through campus he tried to focus on just the good feeling it gave him, instead of the guilty thoughts which threatened at every turn to make his young life more complicated. He was due to ship out very soon, and as excited as he was about landing his first assignment so soon after graduation, he still had not resolved things with Jenice. She knew in just over a week he would be leaving and would be enlisting as an ensign aboard an as-yet un-assigned starship after disembarking from Starbase Earhart. but it was as though she wanted to pretend that nothing had changed between them. In fact, everything had changed since he had met with Jenice's father, noted humanities professor Albert Bertrand several weeks ago; it was a meeting which had been disastrous in nearly every way.

He cringed inwardly as he recalled that he had gone to the University of Paris to ridiculously and archaically ask for Jenice's hand in marriage. Professor Bertrand had revealed to Picard that he was only one in a long line of lovers the older Jenice had been with; that she was a free spirit and that in a sense he was just one of many stops along the way to her destination, which was freedom, not monogamy.

Among other indignities, Professor Bertrand had scoffed at Picard's upbringing, referring to him as "farm boy" at several points, had periodically blown pipe smoke in the young cadet's face, and had ultimately declared that his daughter was too good for Jean-Luc. The conversation had shaken Jean-Luc to his core, because rarely had anyone spoken to him in such a condescending and prejudiced manner. But mainly, he had been shaken because he had seen the truth of it. He had been warned.

Afterwards against his better judgment he had told Jenice everything he had discussed with her father and everything he was feeling as a result. He had even mentioned Professor Bertrand's claim that she would never settle for being a "military wife." Stubbornly he had wished he had had the fortitude to explain to Professor Bertrand that Starfleet was not militaristic. But Jenice hadn't wanted to discuss her father. And instead of telling him that none of these statements were true, she had simply put a consoling hand on his cheek and had said: "My love, now you see all the reasons I never introduced you to my father. He may be brilliant, but he can also be very cruel."

And she hadn't even denied the fact that she had been with many people before him, a fact she had never mentioned before, but now one he could not get out of his mind. In fact, she didn't seem to want to discuss anything at all about their relationship, or their future. So instead they had gone to bed. He was nineteen going on twenty, and going to bed with his beautiful girlfriend should have been enough to make things better; usually it would have been. But this time, and every time afterward it just wasn't the same.

He was a young man of carefully observed habits, but the stressful nature of his thoughts that morning caused him to be distracted, and he diverted from his usual path. Rounding bend, he suddenly realized he had not been watching his steps carefully enough. He leapt over a flower bed and was rewarded by a water hose spraying him directly in the face. He twisted around angrily and stopped, glaring back at whomever had wielded the hose. "Hey!" he sputtered, wiping the cold water from his eyes and glaring imperiously. Suddenly in recognition, his expression changed immediately. "Mr. Boothby! Oh, I am so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going, sir," he admitted.

The old man smiled at him. Somehow Jean-Luc and all of the other young people at the Academy believed it was possible that Boothby the groundskeeper had always been old, and always would be. They insisted on calling him sir. "Mr. Picard, I haven't seen you since just before your graduation. Tell, me…have you made Captain yet?"

Picard laughed. "No, sir."

"You don't need to call me sir, anymore Mr. Picard. Of course, even ensigns outrank gardeners in Starfleet."

Picard squinted in the now glaring daylight. He held his hand as a shield over his brow. "It wouldn't be right to break with tradition now, sir."

"Mr. Picard, can I ask you a favor?"

Jean-Luc straightened. "Of course, anything."

Now Boothby squinted in the bright sunlight. "Don't get yourself killed out there, alright?"

Picard's smile faded immediately. "What do you mean?"

"I've been around, Mr. Picard. And I've seen some great officers be taken out of the game early on."

Picard was completely serious now. "Why?"

"Ego…arrogance. Mr. Picard, you are certainly a disciplined young man. But you also have an impulsive streak that I am afraid could get you into some trouble. I just want to make sure that you take care and don't take on too much too soon."

Picard's brash smile slowly returned. "I appreciate your concern. But I shall be fine, sir."

Boothby studied him. "Hmm…I bet you will," he said after a moment. Suddenly both men turned at the sound of several people screaming in terror. Picard felt his body tighten with adrenaline. He stared off into the distance, alert and tense. The screams had stopped and came from the upper level of the southwest dormitory. Starting to jog away in that direction, he turned back to Boothby. "Alert the authorities," he said sharply, the earlier deference in his voice now absent.

Boothby watched as Picard sprinted away toward the direction of the dormitory. "It seems that _you are_ 'the authorities' now, Mr. Picard."

* * *

As he sprinted up the back stairs taking two or three steps at a time, he could instinctively tell that while in emotional distress, the people now shouting and screaming were not in physical danger themselves. He reached the second floor and could see a number of younger cadets gathered around the doorway to a room. "She's been killed!" a young man was shouting.

"She's not breathing," another young woman shouted. Picard wove his way through the crowd of frightened cadets and pushed his way into the room.

A young woman with silken black hair lay obviously dead on the floor, her neck tilted at an odd angle. There were bruises on her face and throat. A young man stood over her, clenching and unclenching his fists. Picard could tell that he was distraught, and immediately he felt sympathy for the young cadet. There was something about the young man that made Picard immediately believe that this was not the killer.

But that was not what he conveyed. "Clear the area," Picard shouted suddenly. "This is a crime scene!"

The young man shakily regarded him, looking clearly in shock but still able to express outrage. "She's…she's my friend."

"Name and rank," demanded Picard sternly.

The man straightened slightly as if jolted back to reality. "Jack Crusher, Cadet First Year," he snapped. "Who the hell are you."

"I'm Ensign Jean-Luc Picard, your commanding officer. Now get the hell out of this room, Cadet, before I throw you out."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

 **Starfleet Academy 2340**

Picard halted outside the Academy Chancellor's office. He had no clear idea why he had been summoned, but guessed it had something to do with the awful scene he had witnessed earlier in the day. The awards ceremony had been canceled and instead a disturbing pall had fallen over the campus of Starfleet academy.

"Come in," the Chancellor called out, and the Chancellor's assistant, a very attractive young woman hurried out. He graciously stepped out of the way and she shot him a shy smile over her shoulder. He smiled back at her, forgetting for a moment about his troubles with Jenice. He heard an impatient clearing of a throat come from inside the office and he turned back and stepped obediently through the door.

Chancellor Villanova was seated behind her desk. A striking woman in her late fifties, the chancellor was known for charming her political allies and enemies alike. Villanova's sneak attacks were legendary, and it was said that you never knew you were on the Chancellor's bad side until it was too late. Picard hoped he had nothing to fear, for he was not a politically minded person, and by his own estimation was certainly no threat to her.

"Charlotte is lovely, isn't she?" The Chancellor gestured for him to sit down across from her desk and he complied without a word.

"Hmm?" He looked across the desk at her, beginning to feel a strange sense of trepidation.

"Charlotte...my pretty young assistant..."

"Oh. Yes, Chancellor." He wasn't quite sure what he was expected to say. Certainly the woman had been attractive, but Jean-Luc didn't want to say anything that might be offensive.

"I understand that you came upon a very disturbing scene this morning, Ensign. Very tragic. This type of horrific incident is simply not supposed to happen at the Academy."

Picard nodded solemnly, still wondering what this had to do with him.

"I need you to head up the investigation of the murder of Parvati Singh, Jean-Luc," said Villanova, getting straight down to business. "Think of it as your first unofficial assignment."

"But, Chancellor, isn't this a matter for Academy Security?"

"We have reason to believe that the perpetrator may be a student, Jean-Luc. Therefore, in my opinion—and mine is the one that matters-this is a student issue, Jean-Luc. Of course, Security will be involved and already are, but I would like you to question witnesses in the student population, and if possible, identify the killer."

Picard knew his chances of getting out of this assignment were limited, but he still tried. "But…but I ship out in less than two weeks, Chancellor."

"Well you will have plenty of time then, won't you?" She smiled. "You were very recently a student here. Many would say our best and brightest."

"Thank you, Chancellor, I am very flattered, but…."

She gave him a small knowing smile. "Of course you are. You know, Ensign, the underclassmen look up to you, and they might even fear you to a degree."

Picard frowned. "Oh, I don't think so, Chancellor."

"I do. You have what veterans in Starfleet call _'it'_ , Ensign Picard. You are a natural leader. People like you are few and far between, and when we at Command find someone like you, believe me we take notice."

Picard felt himself getting overheated in his uniform. He shifted uncomfortably.

"So, once again, I would like you to investigate the matter of Cadet Singh's death. Understood?"

Picard stood up. "Aye sir. I will do my best."

* * *

 _ **Enterprise**_

Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher listened to his mother pace the living room as he finished brushing his hair fastidiously in his bedroom mirror. Recently he had realized he liked his hair in a certain shape, and if he could get the formation just right at the start of the day before leaving their quarters he always felt the chances he would have a good day would be increased. And he didn't care that his hair when perfectly coiffed now greatly resembled Commander Riker's hair. Actually he did care; in fact he was glad. Commander Riker was cool, and if girls thought he looked like Commander Riker, well, maybe the hair really _could_ work wonders for him.

Also, the longer he took to brush his hair into the just-so pattern each morning, the greater the odds that his mother would leave before him and he wouldn't have to listen to her grumble. These last few weeks had been hellish. Just a few months ago she had returned to the Enterprise from Starfleet Medical, and at first things had been great. The comfort of having his Mom around again full-time felt good. In fact, the collective mood around the ship seemed to have improved with her return. But at some point recently she had apparently had some kind of confrontation with Captain Picard, and since then Wesley had learned the hard way that even the mere mention of the Captain could set his mother off.

This was a difficult dilemma for Wesley, because if when prompted by his mother to tell her how his day had gone, the general happenings on the bridge, or to describe the bizarre aliens who appeared on the main viewer almost daily, he had to do so without mentioning the Captain; and that was hard. Besides, he greatly admired Captain Picard, and enjoyed recounting the things he had done or said during the day. He hoped that his mother and the Captain could make amends soon, because frankly their feud was starting to really wear on poor Wesley's nerves.

Hearing she was still out in the living room, he hesitated, took a deep breath and then walked out with a smile on his face. "Hey Mom," he said as nonchalantly as possible. He grabbed a banana from a bowl on the table and watched her dubiously as he began to peel it.

"All I ask for is that my advice and opinion count for something on this ship," she said as though they had just been talking about that very subject. Clearly she had been thinking about it, and had now decided to speak her thoughts aloud now that he was there. "When someone asks for my input, I expect them to value it, even if they disagree with me. You know, I just came back from Starfleet Medical where I was in charge of _literally_ everything. Then I come back here and you would think that at the very least he would listen to what I had to say!"

Wesley struggled not to sigh and to keep his tone even. "Mom, why don't you just tell the Captain what is bugging you so much? He's reasonable…and I'm sure he really does value your opinion."

Beverly Crusher looked at her son as though he had two heads. "Wes…I have known Jean-Luc Picard a _long_ time. And trust me, he knows exactly what is bugging me," she said snapping her med kit shut with more force than necessary, and placing it on the table. "But he doesn't care," she added. Beverly looked up at the ceiling as if she were imploring the heavens. "He has a way of just…well it's infuriating," she said finally, dropping her hands to rest on top of her med kit and staring down at them pensively.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. There was something about the expression she had on her face at that moment that reminded him that he suspected that there was something deep and hidden between his mother and the Captain. He wasn't quite sure what that was, or how that made him feel, but he wished that they for once would just recognize it and move on with their lives. He took another deep breath. "Mom, if you never tell him what he did that was so wrong, how is he supposed to fix it?"

She stared at him again, but this time, gradually her expression softened a little with understanding. He could tell she was still reticent though. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should just go and try to talk with him, and even if he doesn't listen—at least I've said my piece."

Wesley gave a little shrug and smiled. "That makes a lot of sense, Mom. Go for it."

* * *

Captain Picard, Commander Riker, and Lt. Commander Data stood in the main conference room staring at a three dimensional star chart that was slowly rotating above the center of the table. The three men continued to stare at it in silent contemplation until eventually Picard reached out his hand to indicate a point on the chart and it halted its rotation. "Right here," he said sounding quite certain. "The Sargasso Sea. If the missing science vessel dropped out of contact, it is very possible that it is here floating in this region."

"Sargasso Sea? I'm familiar with the region in the Atlantic Ocean back on Earth, but I've never heard of this kind of thing out here," said Riker.

Data tilted his head. "You are correct that the name is in fact of Earth origin, Commander. The Sargasso Sea on Earth, located in the North Atlantic Gyre where several major currents converge was considered an area of great mystery dating back to the 15th century. It was widely believed by mariners during that period that the green algae of the genus Sargassum, which was quite prevalent in the region, was responsible for the disappearance of numerous vessels."

Riker looked skeptical. "Yes, but wasn't most of that just myth? Surely seaweed couldn't be blamed for the disappearance of all of those ships."

Picard shook his head. "You're right Number One—bunches of seaweed had little or nothing to do with the disappearing ships, and yet myth and even mere conjecture will never grow old. But as you can see, the infamous name at least has traveled out into space along with us. This region of the Far Rim also has its own mysterious history and many believe it is at the very least bad luck for a ship to enter what human spacefarers out here termed the Sargasso Sea."

Riker smiled grimly. "So why do I get the feeling you are going to say that is exactly what we are about to do, Captain?"

Picard smiled slightly but then grew serious. "If our missing science vessel is there, Commander, I don't think we have a choice," he said quietly. Rubbing his chin he continued to stare at the star map with a far off expression. "Have the helm set the appropriate course. Warp eight should get us there soon enough." Riker nodded.

The door slid open, and Picard glanced up frowning. He hadn't been expecting Doctor Crusher, but here she was, nonetheless. Riker and Data straightened, and Picard nodded curtly to them. "Dismissed, gentlemen."

* * *

Riker and Data headed out of the conference room quickly, as Picard turned to face Doctor Crusher.

He hoped that his features were not as tense as he suddenly felt inside. "To what do I owe this visit, Doctor?"

She moved into the room and sat down gracefully, clasping her hands in front of her on the obsidian table. Taking his cue, he sat down across from her and adopted her posture. His mind raced, trying to think of why she had possibly decided on an unannounced visit.

There was a long pause before Doctor Crusher answered. For a moment she seemed as if she would say something but then seemed to reconsider. Then she said, gesturing with her hands, "lately we seem to be having trouble communicating, Captain. And to be honest with you, it is really starting to bother me," she added very quickly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "And so that is why you've come to see me…."

"Yes, that is why I've come to see you," she confirmed. Now at a loss for what to say next, she realized the irony, given her complaints about poor communication.

Picard sat back in his chair still looking somewhat taken aback. But she could see by his eyes that he had now figured out primarily why she was here. "Doctor, I appreciate your candor, but if you're talking about the matter on Tamir a few weeks ago, it is water under the bridge as far as I am concerned."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, Captain, the matter is still open for discussion," she said folding her arms in front of her.

He glared at her. No one else on his ship would have dared talk to him in this way. "Why? Because we disagreed? Doctor, as I just indicated, the matter is closed."

"Because you want it to be? Are you going to make this an issue of rank, Captain? Well, it's not about rank."

"Oh?"

"No. Because I did just as you ordered. I prepared enough supplies to provide aid to all of the victims down on Tamir and yet you chose only to aid the victims of the earthquake; not the war." She leaned forward and pointed down at the table for emphasis.

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice about it, did I? You know I was under orders not to interfere in an armed conflict, and therefore we were prevented from supplying aid to those wounded by the war on Tamir."

"Semantics, Captain. There were people dying down there…."

"And we helped them! We helped those who were affected by a horrible natural disaster," said Picard.

"But we only helped some of the wounded and dying, Captain."

"Doctor, I should not need to remind you again of the role the Prime Directive played in that matter. We were prevented from taking sides in the Tamir conflict."

"If both sides were truly interested in a cease fire, Captain, then they wouldn't have minded us treating victims on both sides."

"Doctor, even the appearance of bias could have led to an escalation in the conflict. You can't possibly in retrospect predict what would have happened."

"And neither can you," she shot back.

Picard sighed in exasperation. This kind of back and forth between them could potentially go on for days. "Doctor…I am afraid it is not as simple as winning an argument with me. Even if I agreed with you-"

"Which you don't…."

"We are not allowed to take sides in a conflict between non-Federation members."

"So you've said." They stared at each other in stony silence for a few more moments.

Picard leaned forward intensely and looked directly at her. "You are of course free to make a formal objection, if you wish. I can have it sent to Starfleet Command along with my reply in a matter of hours."

"I don't want to send a formal objection. And I'm not trying to challenge your authority, Captain."

He laughed, derisively. "Oh, I see. Then what are you trying to do?"

She stood up so abruptly that for a moment he thought she might overturn her chair unintentionally. He stared up at her, reminded again what an incredibly intense person she could be. And, guiltily, he also noticed again how beautiful she was. "Jean-Luc, I am trying to explain to you why I am so upset by this. Look, I know you are not comfortable with spontaneous displays of emotion."

He glanced away from her, perhaps proving her point. "I know we both took an oath to uphold the Prime Directive, and I respect the Prime Directive—I do. But, I also took an oath to heal the sick, and you asked me—no you _ordered_ me to disregard that oath. Do you realize how that makes me feel?"

Picard looked reluctantly up at her. "Well, I am certainly beginning to realize that you are upset, yes."

"You realize I am upset, but you're acting as though this is just another personnel issue." She leaned over the table at him. "Tell me, Jean-Luc: are you speaking as my friend right now, or as my commanding officer?"

He was silent.

"We _are_ friends aren't we, Jean-Luc?" She stood and stared at him for a few more moments and when he failed to answer, turned to leave.

"Beverly!" he called out to her, as she strode out of the room. Realizing his blunder, he slowly dropped his clenched fist to the table in frustration. "Yes. I am your friend," he said quietly, as the doors shut leaving him alone.

* * *

Something was pulling him back to consciousness. He drew in a painful breath, and opened his eyes with difficulty, as they were encrusted with dried blood. He stared up at the white interior of the pod. He heard a beeping sound coming from the communications console; an automatic beacon. He knew the pod had no propulsion to speak of, and now that he was away from immediate danger, this became a real problem. Eventually, the pod would be depleted of breathable air, and if not rescued in time, he would die. He wondered if she would find him before that happened. And if she found him, would she still love him? Or would she kill him, as she had everyone else?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Captain Picard sat at his desk, trying to put the confrontation with Beverly out of his mind. He began to study the prepared report from Starbase 14 describing the background of the science vessel they had been charged with locating out at the Far Rim. He frowned at the report; there was hardly any information of use. Even the ship apparently had no name. According to the report, the ship belonged to the "Eve Project", whatever that was. There was no record of such a project in any of the usual databases. Admiral Collins had urged discretion, but for what? Picard had no information to share, even if he wanted to. He slapped the data pad down in frustration. Apparently the whole damn thing was classified.

He stared at the wall distractedly. He could not help but think about her again. Why were things with Beverly so difficult lately? She was right; the communication between them had not been there. Sometimes he felt he had trouble relating to her and then other times it was as though she was so familiar that it frightened him. She was so funny and vibrant, and brilliant...how could he possibly not be capable of communicating with her?

Relaxing a little now he smiled, thinking about her, but his smile quickly faded. The fact that he was scared by even the most innocent potential intimacy with her made him angry and confused. Maybe it was that he was unsure of the boundaries. He had no idea if Beverly wanted anything more than to be friends. But perhaps the problem was he hadn't truly tried to be her friend yet.

Did he have feelings for her again? Like he'd had so long ago? He had pushed those feelings down into his subconscious for so long that he believed they had been extinguished. Perhaps this is what counselor Troi had been trying to get him to realize. Perhaps he should seek out her counsel. Or maybe Commander Riker would be willing to provide him with some advice. But the embarrassment of it all made him reluctant to ask. Whatever he did, he would have to be discreet. He didn't want any of this to get around the ship. It just wouldn't do to have people he barely knew believing he had personal problems. Why did he hardly know them? Well, it was just his way; they had come to expect this way of being from him. Briefly he considered whether he had ever been someone that others could be close to. Or had he always been this way?

Sighing, he glanced back down at the report and something caught his eye. It was a name. From a long time ago. He picked up the pad. How strange, almost chilling to see it there before him after all of these years. The owner of the name was one of the crew listed on the science vessel. He held the pad closer, to make sure he was reading it correctly.

"Allen Harrow," he read out loud. A strange chill passed through him, and a long-buried anger threatened to break through the surface, but he submerged it. He hoped that when faced with the real person, he would be able to keep his composure in the same way.

* * *

The first nine witness interviews had not exactly been fruitful. Everyone he had spoken to had heard screams of the bystanders who had found Cadet Singh's body, but it seemed they had not heard those of Cadet Singh. But the tenth witness Picard interviewed held some surprising information.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Cadet Wheeler," said Jean-Luc, sitting down in the cafeteria across from a nervous sixteen year old girl. She nodded quickly. He remembered what Chancellor Villanova had said to him, and he consciously tried not to present too intimidating a figure.

"Your dorm room is adjacent to Cadet Singh's room, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Meaning you share a wall with Cadet, Singh, isn't that correct?"

"Yes sir."

"You reported to security that you were in your room at the time of death."

"Yes sir."

"How did you know what the time of death was?"

"Um...security told me she was killed at approximately 0830 sir. And then they asked me where I was at that time."

"I see. And what were you doing still in your room at 0830 hours, cadet?"

"I was late for class, sir. I had just taken a shower and decided to skip breakfast to get to class on time."

"Cadet, don't you know the importance of a good breakfast?" Picard berated her disapprovingly. "At the very least, eat a piece of fruit, or something else nutritious."

The girl stared at him looking confused. "Uh…Yes sir. Sorry sir."

"Did you hear anything? I know the walls are quite thin."

"I heard something. Like a muffled shout…and then something falling to the floor. Then…nothing."

"How many voices did you hear? Male or female?"

"Just one voice, and I think it was female, sir."

"What did you do when you heard the shout, Cadet?"

"That's when I left sir. I rushed out of my room to see what had happened."

"What time did you leave your room?"

"About 0835. That's when I saw him, sir."

Picard felt his skin grow clammy. He put his hand on his knee and sat up straighter. "Saw who?"

"Cadet Singh's boyfriend, sir. And he looked right at me, but his…something about his eyes wasn't right."

Picard began typing notes into his data pad, keeping as much eye contact with Wheeler as possible. "What is his name?"

"Allen. Allen…Harrow, sir."

Picard continued to type. "Describe him."

"He's got black hair, dark eyes, sort of pale skin, skinny, and tall."

"Is he my height?"

Wheeler blushed. "You're not very tall, sir. He's over six feet."

Indeed six feet was quite tall for a sixteen year old. Picard kept his facial features neutral, but he was quite sensitive about his own height. Perhaps he hoped, he still had the chance to grow a bit more over the next year.

He cleared his throat. "And where was Cadet Harrow standing in relation to you?"

"He was coming out of Cadet Singh's room."

Picard looked at her closely. "And was he in a hurry? Did he shut the door behind him?"

"No. And looking back, that is what seems so weird, sir. He was totally calm."

"And you said he looked at you. Did he say anything?"

"No, sir."

"You described his eyes as not being 'right'. What did you mean?"

"Well, Cadet Harrow has dark brown eyes sir; almost black. But when I saw him come out of Cadet Singh's room, they were different. When I was little I had a pet lizard, and I can remember he had very distinctive eyes. When Cadet Harrow looked at me, it seemed as though I was looking into the eyes of a reptile."

* * *

Jack had never seen Allen Harrow so upset. He had found Allen in the micro-biology lab, seated with his head down at one of the science stations. Jack had known he would be there, not wanting to leave, burying himself in work even more than usual. But he hadn't expected that his friend would be crying.

Trying to comfort Allen, he patted him on the shoulder. Jack didn't know what to say...after all he was still in shock from having found Parvati dead on the floor of her room. He could not imagine what Allen himself was feeling. Both teens turned at the sound of a shuffle of feet in the doorway. Jack's eyes narrowed and his usually effervescent confidence ebbed. It was Ensign Picard. Picard leveled a piercing gaze at him and then gave him a slight smile as he strolled into the lab as though he owned the place.

Jack glared at the man, but Ensign Picard ignored him, apparently unfazed by Jack's attempts at appearing tough. Instead, he walked toward Jack and Allen without hesitation and leaned against a counter nearby. He nodded toward Allen, who was looking at Picard out of the corner of his eye.

"Cadet Allen Harrow? I'm Ensign Jean-Luc Picard, and unfortunately I have been tasked with the assignment of investigating the death of Cadet Singh." He paused, when Harrow refused to looked up from the hands now clasped in his lap. For a few seconds, Picard had the distinct impression that Harrow intended to run. There was only one exit, and he would have to run through Jean-Luc to get away.

Picard looked down. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cadet Harrow," he said, and despite his cold tone, he was at least partly sincere. He truly was sorry for the loss of life, but as he was quite suspicious of Harrow, he wasn't quite sure yet if he felt sorry for the somber cadet. He pressed on. "I understand, Harrow that Ms. Singh was your girlfriend. Were you together long?"

"Allen, don't speak to him without legal counsel," warned Jack protectively.

Picard leaned on the counter as though he was there for a social call. "Your friend is right, Allen. If you have something to hide, by all means contact someone in Legal. But you do not have a right to an attorney, as I am not Starfleet security. That said… it is completely voluntary for you to talk to me. But if you agree to talk...please don't waste my time," he said with a small smile. "I simply cannot tolerate dishonesty."

Jack glared at Picard defiantly. He was determined not to be intimidated by Picard and his reputation. "He's got nothing to lie to you about, do you Allen?" Jack turned to his friend supportively.

Picard kept a cool eye on Harrow. "Your friend Crusher here is very loyal to you, which is very admirable. But he also can't seem to keep his mouth shut. Tell me, how long are you going to let him speak for you, Allen?"

"Fine, I'll talk to you," Harrow murmured, looking up at Picard with bloodshot eyes. He nodded toward Crusher. "Can Jack stay?"

Picard nodded. "Of course," he allowed.

Allen Harrow had denied everything. He had denied being present in Singh's room, or even having seen her that day. Picard had a dilemma, for he found both Allen and the witness Wheeler to be credible. And so if he believed both of them, where did that leave his investigation? Harrow was either the killer or he was not. He knew he needed to check with Starfleet Security and check the physical evidence they had gathered.

When Picard departed, Harrow had remained behind, brooding. Jack Crusher had followed Picard and stopped him outside the lab. "I told you he was telling the truth," Jack snapped.

Picard brushed past Crusher. "I'm not going to discuss my investigation with you, Mr. Crusher."

"My name's Jack," Crusher called after him. "Arrogant bastard," he added, muttering under his breath as Picard walked swiftly down the hall and disappeared around a corner. But as he watched he felt what had been just a spark of admiration before, begin to flare. He had watched Picard's face when questioning Allen. He was a sincere person, principled. Jack could tell that Picard only wanted to know what had really happened to Parvati, which is of course what Jack wanted too. He took a halting step after him, before deciding to follow him down the hallway.

* * *

"Captain, a vessel is incoming, sir," reported Data from Ops. "Its course would have taken it through the Sargasso Sea region, sir."

"Where we're headed," Picard murmured. "On screen," he said, getting up from his command chair. The screen now showed a tiny white pod lazily tumbling toward them. It was clearly a Federation ship—an escape pod…but was unmarked. "Life signs?"

"One sir," Data confirmed.

Picard nodded. "Bring it in to Shuttle Bay One," he ordered. "Use the tractor beam."

He tapped his communicator. "Doctor Crusher, kindly meet me in Shuttle Bay One. We've brought a one-person escape pod aboard and the occupant is alive, but we expect that person to be in need of medical care."

" _Understood, Captain,"_ said Crusher. _"I'm on my way."_

Picard and Riker walked toward the turbo lift. "Mr. Worf, please join us in greeting our new guest."

Doctor Crusher and a nurse were there already when they arrived, and they stood outside of the shuttle pod. Crusher said something to her aide and gestured at the pod door. Picard had to resist shouting to her to stay away from the door. He did not want to see her harmed because of carelessness. But instinctively he knew she had no intention of opening the pod without him there first, and so he restrained himself from calling out to her.

"Please stand aside, Doctor," Worf said gruffly, as they approached. He pulled out his tricorder, and ran it over the door and exterior of the pod.

She moved out of the way, but nodded toward Picard. "Look at this sir," Doctor Crusher said, gesturing to a messy dried blood stain near the pod hatch.

Picard stepped next to her and peered at the stain, which he noted was shaped vaguely like a handprint.

"Get a sample, Mr. Worf," Riker ordered.

Worf nodded, complying. "Please move aside sirs," he said. I am going to trigger the explosive bolts on the hatch." He hit a control on the hatch, and stepped back and to the left, pulling out his phaser and holding it at the ready. There was a hiss and the hatch released, pushing out slightly and then dropping to the floor.

Worf walked forward cautiously with his phaser as Crusher and her subordinate waited impatiently for him to give the all clear. Picard walked forward and could see a shape moving inside the shuttle. The smell of dried blood, untreated wounds and an unwashed body emanated from the pod.

Crusher moved forward, but Picard grabbed her arm. She turned an leveled a sharp look at him. Clearly she did not appreciate his interfering with her duties. Letting go of her arm slowly, he said, "Doctor, the interior of that shuttle is too small for you to climb in there and help this person. And you'll have no protection if he is violent." Picard nodded to Worf. "Can you pull him out?""

Beverly looked highly irritated. "There is a way to move patients, and a way not to, Captain, and having Worf manhandle a wounded person is not exactly protocol," she protested.

"It is now," he said. She studied his face, and then shrugged, looking away. Worf glanced at Picard for confirmation and immediately his head and torso disappeared into the pod's interior. There was a loud grunt, and Worf drew out a man by gripping underneath his armpits. All things considered, he placed him down on the deck gently enough as Crusher and her nurse rushed to the man's side.

It wasn't until her tricorder reached his face that she recognized him. Picard heard her gasp, and he knelt down next to her protectively. "My God," sad Crusher. "Allen, is that you?" Picard looked from the bruised and bloodied man, to Beverly and back again. An unkempt black beard speckled with white covered the once young face, but yes, it was unmistakably Allen Harrow.

Picard looked again at Beverly searchingly. He wasn't aware that she had known Allen Harrow except as perhaps a passing acquaintance. But sure enough, not only did she recognize him, but he clearly meant something to her. He watched as she wiped away tears from her face.

Picard stood up abruptly and stepped back, glancing over at Riker. "Sickbay," Crusher was saying, "Three to beam from Shuttle Bay One. Riker watched his commanding officer curiously as Picard continued to stare in silence with a shocked expression, as Crusher and her new patient disappeared in the beam.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Captain Picard walked into sickbay with Worf in tow. Beverly was working to stabilize her patient as he approached. Based on previous experiences, he knew she would not take kindly to interruption, but he now felt an urgency and a need to move quickly.

"What is his status, Doctor?" asked Picard. Worf stood nearby glaring at the prone form of Allen Harrow more dangerously than was probably necessary. In any case, Picard wanted Worf there. He felt a deep sense of suspicion, and tried to tell himself that it was perfectly natural; that he would have responded to anyone with this level of suspicion. But he knew that was untrue. He knew that Allen Harrow's reappearance had shaken him. And now it seemed, Harrow and Beverly had some sort of connection. And so on top of all of this; he felt the seeds of a deep and unreasonable jealousy growing somewhere in his chest. He knew he would have to re-gain his perspective and if possible, his objectivity if he was to complete this mission.

Picard noticed that Beverly's bearing seemed to stiffen slightly at the sound of his voice, but to her credit her voice remained calm. Still, she did not turn around when addressing him. "Most of his wounds except for the head wound are superficial, but numerous."

"Enough to explain all of that blood?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question, Captain," Crusher said slowly, and just like that, the unmistakable edge in her voice had returned. Carefully, she examined a cut on Harrow's forearm. Why did she sound so protective of Harrow?

"I meant could he have someone else's blood on this clothes and body?" Picard clarified, trying to keep his voice calm and even as his mind raced. Distantly he remembered seeing Allen Harrow and Beverly Crusher together once long ago. But where?

She turned halfway around then for the first time, to address him directly. She held Harrow's wrist up slightly for the Captain to see. "Yes, I would bet on it. This is clearly a defensive wound."

Picard gestured to Worf. "Lieutenant, take his clothes and get them tested," he ordered.

"Whoa!" Crusher put her hand up to stop Worf as he walked closer. Worf halted but looked at Picard for guidance.

Picard's jaw tightened. He was determined not to have another scene with Crusher, but she seemed unwilling to go along with his plan. She placed her hands on her hips. "Can you wait a few more minutes to strip my patient of his clothing until I've finished what I am doing, Captain? Any material you are able to gather already has already been sitting in a shuttle pod for at least a few days anyway. It's not exactly fresh you know."

He stared at her, but he could tell she had no intention of backing down. "Very well," he said, nodding at Worf. "Wait until Doctor Crusher has finished—and then take his clothes and have them tested. I'll be on the bridge. And I expect a report within the hour, Lieutenant," he called back over his shoulder as he walked out of sickbay swiftly.

Worf watched the Captain leave and then looked down at Doctor Crusher. "I will wait here," he said, placing his hands behind his back.

Crusher shook her head and turned back around to attend to her patient.

She noticed for the first time that Allen was looking at her, and he was whispering something through parched lips. She leaned down toward him to listen. She took his hand. "Allen…it's me, Beverly? What is it?"

"Picard…Picard doesn't trust me."

Beverly frowned. "Why do you think that? Jean-Luc…he doesn't even really know you, does he?"

Allen closed his eyes and shook his head. Tears escaped his eyelids as she watched him closely. "I should have stopped…long ago, I should have stopped…."

"You should have stopped what, Allen? Allen you're very dehydrated. You're not thinking straight. You need rest," she said squeezing his hand.

"It's too late now…" he said, sounding as though he had given up. "I can't make it right."

* * *

 **The Academy**

The lights in the lab had been turned off hours ago, but Allen Harrow continued to sit, with his head down. Jack had left just after Picard had. He was afraid of Ensign Picard. Allen knew he hadn't done anything wrong, knew he had nothing to fear except being alone without Parvati. And yet, Picard made him feel guilty, as if he was being hunted.

"Allen?" the delicate voice said. "Are you okay?"

Allen blinked and turned around to see a figure in the doorway. It was Claudia. He turned back around and put his head back down. "She's dead," he said. "I'm not sure if I'll ever know again what being 'okay' means."

"I just…I just wanted to see how you were doing," said Claudia, moving farther into the room. "Everyone says Security is accusing you, Allen. But I know it couldn't be you who did it."

He sniffed, feeling himself begin to cry again. "It wasn't," he said. "I didn't kill her."

"I know, Allen," Claudia said, sounding truly sympathetic. He could tell that she believed him, and that made him feel better. Knowing he owed her at least something, he sat up and turned around to face her. She was looking at him and for a moment her eyes seemed to flash a strange green in the dim light, and then returned to normal.

"Did you love her?" she said suddenly, taking another step forward.

Allen blinked again. "I don't…I don't think so. I'm only sixteen. I just—"

"Good," she said. "Because _I_ love you, Allen. And I know you don't love me yet. But someday you will."

* * *

Ensign Picard stepped into Starfleet Security with his data pad clutched in his palm. He walked to the front desk, and leaned forward as the laser scanner brushed over his eye. "Welcome, Ensign Picard," said an automated voice. "Please state your business."

"I would like to meet with the Chief of Investigations for the Academy," he said.

"Please wait…the Chief of Investigations will meet with you in five minutes. Would you like to wait?"

"Yes, thank you," he agreed.

"Please remove all weapons, place them in the safe to your left, and step through the body scanner," said the voice.

"I don't have any weapons," said Picard.

"Very well, please step through the body scanner."

He did so, and then stood quietly, waiting for the Chief to emerge. A few minutes later the inner door opened and the Chief walked out, glanced at him and then beckoned him in.

"What do you want, kid?" the Chief said, falling into his chair casually.

"The Chancellor ordered me to investigate—"

"We know…what can I do for you, boy wonder?"

"Boy wonder? What is that supposed to mean?"

The Chief leaned forward. "It means just because the Chancellor has a thing for you, doesn't mean we need your help, cute stuff. We already have the information we need."

Picard's fists tightened at his sides. "So you have identified the killer?"

"We know it's one of the students," said the Chief, shrugging as though he was uninterested in knowing which one. "But it doesn't matter. The investigation's been called off."

"What do you mean it's been called off?" Picard did not even try to hide his outrage. "We have an eyewitness who positively identified Allen Harrow leaving the scene at 0835 hours. At the very least we have to do a DNA match."

The Chief smirked from behind the desk. " _We_ have to do a DNA match?" he repeated in mock surprise. Picard lowered his head and stared at the man angrily. The Chief's smug smile faded slightly and he waved Picard over to join him behind his desk.

Turning his computer screen toward Picard, he looked up at the Ensign. "Here are the samples we gathered from the wounds on Singh's body. We compared those with other samples of Harrow's DNA we found around the room, and from his last physical. Now here's two samples compared side by side." He looked up at Picard again for the young man's reaction.

Picard's eyes narrowed looking at the screen. "They look the same…wait, there is just this," he said pointing to a tiny dark irregularity in the unidentified sample. "But they look so similar…" he whispered almost to himself.

The Chief stretched. "It's not him," the man said with annoying confidence. "Face it, kid…Harrow's innocent."

Picard shook his head. He wasn't going to give up. "This isn't conclusive. Perhaps it's a mutation of some sort," Picard suggested, thinking back to what Cadet Wheeler had said about the strange look in Harrow's eyes. He straightened and addressed the Chief as though to reason with him once and for all. "You can't be sure," he said.

"Ensign, your tenacity is incredibly impressive," said an elegant voice from the doorway. "But the Chief is right. It's over."

Picard looked up sharply, but the Chief didn't look surprised at all to see Chancellor Villanova standing in the doorway of his office. She walked in slowly. "Chancellor," said Picard, moving out. "If I could just have a few hours more, I know I could-"

"Ensign, haven't we made it clear?" said Villanova. "Your services have been appreciated, but they are no longer needed."

"But—"

"Ensign, please do not push this any further," said Villanova. "You may find you are quickly in over your head."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

 _She was searching for him. She would always search for him until the end of their lives together. And they would be together…always._

* * *

Allen Harrow was alone. Yes, he was on a new ship and for the moment, safe. When he had opened his eyes to see Beverly Crusher's beautiful face he had known immediately that he was safe. But for how long? He sat up in his hospital bed, and tried to stamp out the images that continually floated through his brain. Cutting, slashing, gouging…and the screams. He had escaped, but at what cost? The screams still reverberated inside his brain. He clutched his hands to the sides of his head, hoping, praying that he would someday be at peace. But he knew he didn't deserve peace. Because the war inside his brain was entirely of his own making.

"Allen? Are you alright?" He jerked at the sound of Beverly's voice, and dropped his hands onto the bed in front of him.

Harrow smiled weakly. "Beverly, I can't believe you're here. And Picard too…I just never would have dreamed you would be the ones to rescue me."

Beverly sat down on the edge of his bed. "Allen, what happened to you? You disappeared years ago and no one even knew where you went."

He looked at her with regret. "I'm sorry Beverly. I was needed elsewhere for very important work."

She studied his face. "Your genetics work?" He nodded. "But…we were friends…are friends."

He smiled again and took her hand. "We were more than friends, weren't we? For a time…."

"Yes, we were…so why didn't you tell me you were leaving, Allen?"

"I'm so sorry Beverly." His lip began to tremble. "I've made so many mistakes."

Beverly let go of his hand and stood up, feeling uncomfortable. She hadn't seen Allen in almost ten years. And now he was back, and yes it was him, but he was very strange. Just beneath the surface, she could tell he was frightened of something. "What happened to you, Allen?" she asked again.

"No matter what Picard says…I didn't do it. I swear, I didn't."

Beverly looked down at the floor and frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "Allen, how do you know, Jean-Luc? And why would he accuse you of anything?"

Harrow laughed harshly. "He thinks he knows it all," he said. "He wants to judge me without evidence."

"Judge you for what?" He stopped talking and stared at the far wall with a strange expression. Beverly stared at him worriedly. Her old friend wasn't making much sense. But she could tell that he had been traumatized by something or someone. She knew she had to get Counselor Troi involved as soon as possible, or she feared Allen would be lost.

"Thank you for your prompt report, Lieutenant Worf," said Picard sitting in the conference room with Worf, Data and Riker. "But the results of the tests you performed on Harrow's clothing are more than disturbing. I can't imagine that his explanation will be satisfactory either." He stood up and began to pace the room.

"You know this man, Captain?" Riker asked curiously.

"Yes…from a long time ago. And then yesterday I learned that he was listed as a passenger along with several others, on board the unnamed science research vessel we are out here to find."

"But instead of finding the science vessel, we find him adrift in space, covered by the blood of his comrades," Worf said darkly. "Perhaps," he added suspiciously, "he murdered them." Picard's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"The results do show with specificity, the DNA of the crew complement of the science vessel," observed Data. "However, the amount of blood we found does not support a conclusion that Allen Harrow is a murderer."

"Not yet," Worf said, glowering.

Picard put his hand on the back of one of the chairs. "As much as I am tempted to think the worst of our new guest, we need to question him, and more importantly, we need to complete our mission and locate the missing ship.

* * *

 **The Academy**

Once outside, Jean-Luc walked quickly away from the security headquarters and through the campus. The area was mostly quiet and there were only a few students wandering through. He was angry about what had just happened, but told himself to calm down and think it through. To consider what he was really up against and whether it was worth it, with only a week before shipping out, to pursue an investigation which had no support; to find answers to questions that apparently few wanted.

Picard walked another block and then sat down on the curb next to the gymnasium. It was about 9pm and the light had faded hours ago, but the curb was still a little warm from the sun. He felt restless and needed something to distract him. Perhaps he should go and see Jenice, he thought, but then remembered their conversation earlier that evening, and thought better of it.

 _"So you want me to be devoted to you while you go off and play amongst the stars, Jean-Luc?" she had questioned him._

 _"Play? That's not fair, Jenice. This is my career we are talking about."_

 _"Then perhaps we should talk about my career, Jean-Luc. I am going to be twenty five soon...and you just turned twenty-one last week. That's a big difference, don't you think?"_

 _He shook his head. "Age doesn't matter," he said dismissively._

 _"Not to you," she said. "But Jean Luc, I'm a journalist. I am settling here. Now I know my own career involves some interstellar travel, but primarily I need to be on Earth. I can't follow you around the galaxy any more than you can stay here with me on Earth."_

 _"I don't understand," he had said. "Are you trying to break it off with me?"_

 _She shook her head and laughed. There was nothing at all angry about her tone. "No, Jean-Luc, but I am trying to show you that there is more to life for young people like you and me than worrying over relationships."_

 _"Oh, I see. You are trying to convince me to break it off with you. Do you want to see other people, Jenice? Is that what is going on here? Or have you already been seeing other people?"_

 _"Stop being so jealous, Jean-Luc. That's not who you are."_

 _"Don't tell me who I am!" he exploded suddenly. "I don't think you know me as well as you think, Jenice." He instantly regretted his outburst, but knew it was too late for him to reverse the damage done._

 _Jenice sat down slowly in a chair. "Maybe I don't know you, Jean-Luc. After all, you have never yelled at me like that before."_

 _"_ _I—I'm sorry," he apologized. "I am under a great deal of stress with this investigation. I don't know why they picked me, I don't know what they expect of me, and…well in about a week I will be gone." He stood still, feeling ashamed at the way he had behaved._

 _Jenice shook her head and looked down at her knees. "I know. You will be gone. And then what?"_

 _Picard walked over to Jenice and dropped to his knees next to her. He placed a hand on her knee and looked at her earnestly. "We can still be together, Jenice. It may be difficult at first, but…."_

 _She took his hand, looking down at him. "Do you want a relationship with me, or a career on a starship? Because I believe that if you search your heart, Jean-Luc, you will find you don't want both."_

 _"_ _I don't believe that we have to choose," he said firmly._

 _She smiled softly at him. "You're not being realistic, Jean-Luc."_

 _He stood up and stepped away from her, holding his face in his hands. Why was this so difficult? He dropped his hands and looked at her in frustration. "Why won't you tell me what you want? Do you understand that by forcing me to be the only one to choose, you may be letting me go, Jenice? Do you realize that? You want this to end, but you don't want to be the one to have to end it!"_

 _He knew his voice was rising again and he felt himself getting angry. He didn't feel in control of his destiny anymore, and it frightened him._

 _Jenice stood up, moving by him. "You know what, Jean-Luc? Why don't you go for a walk...and when you've cooled off, you can come back."_

 _He stared at her for a moment before taking up her suggestion. "Fine," he said, walking out of the house._

* * *

Just thinking about it made him angry again. He scratched the back of his head and considered his options. He was hungry. Perhaps he should go and get something to eat.

"Hey!" He glanced up at the greeting and turned halfway around to see a now familiar slim shape walking toward him in the dark. It was Jack Crusher.

He nodded silently and returned to contemplating the pavement beneath his boots. "Mr. Crusher," he acknowledged.

"It's Jack," insisted Crusher, sitting down next to him. He was slightly out of breath and a sweaty towel was wrapped around his neck. Jack looked at Picard. "You know yesterday morning? For the record, I knew who you were."

Picard looked at him with a bemused expression. "What do you mean, you knew who I was?"

"When I asked you who the hell you were—I knew, but I was probably in shock or something. Everyone knows about you around here. I'd just never seen you up close, that's all."

Picard shrugged. "Thank you for the clarification."

Jack looked at him. "I'm a good wrestler you know," Jack said out of the blue, realizing after the fact that he might have sounded as though he was bragging. Picard raised his eyebrows but remained silent. "Why did you stop wrestling after you won the title a few years ago?" Jack asked him.

Picard shrugged again, as though it didn't matter one bit. "I like running better," he said quietly.

Jack laughed suddenly and elbowed Picard in the side. Picard stiffened and eyed the younger man in irritation.

"You know I heard there was a joke going around last year that you stopped wrestling because it required you to actually make physical contact with someone?" Jack laughed again and then seeing that Picard was simply staring at him quieted down. Then slowly, Picard broke into a smile.

"Jack," he said. "Do you think I'm not aware that I am the butt of jokes?"

Jack shook his head. "No, that's not really true. Everyone admires you around here. But you are a little distant. The only way to admire you is from far away. So if there are any jokes... it's about that."

Picard smiled slightly and looked down at his feet. The air was getting cold. He shifted his weight and then leaned back on his hands. "And so what do you think is the solution to my image problem?"

Jack stared at him with a confident grin. "You could use a good friend, you know, someone fun to offset some of the cold-heartedness you give off."

Picard laughed. "Just hours ago in the micro lab you looked like you wanted to kill me for questioning your friend Harrow. Now you want to be friends?"

Jack shrugged. "I know; weird, huh? But I can tell you aren't out to get Allen. You just want to know the truth. Like I do."

Picard looked at the teen seriously. "And if knowing the truth meant that Allen was guilty?"

Jack's expression grew more troubled. "I trust him when he says he didn't do it, Jean-Luc. You don't know him. He's strange, but he's not a killer. But even so...Parvati was my friend too. I care more about seeing justice for her than I do about protecting Allen."

"Well," said Picard. "I suppose anyone, even someone as cold-hearted as me would be lucky to have such a loyal friend." He absently kicked at a stone on the ground. "But it seems as though you and I might be the only ones truly concerned about finding the truth, Jack. The investigation's been called off and I've been ordered by the Chancellor in no uncertain terms to give up the chase."

Jack stared at him, clearly surprised. "What? Did they identify the killer?"  
Picard stood up, his body now stiff from the cool ground and chilly air. He looked down at Jack. "I don't know," he said honestly.

Jack stood up as well, squeezing the towel around his neck. He shivered as a chilly breeze flowed over his damp skin. "What are you going to do? You can't just give up."

"I just told you, Jack, I've been ordered to stop investigating." He shoved his hands in his pockets, once again feeling frustrated that some matters were simply beyond his control.

A look of outrage passed over the Jack's face. "You can't obey an order that's wrong!"

"Are you trying to school me in ethics 101, Cadet?" Picard snapped. "I'm very aware that it's not _right_. But that doesn't mean I know just what I am going to do next." He began walking swiftly away in the direction of his temporary apartment.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Jack asked, falling into step next to Picard.

"Nowhere," said Picard grumpily.

"Are you going to see your girlfriend?" Jack didn't have a girlfriend at the moment, but if he'd had one, he knew would have been going to see her.

Picard gave him a sharp glance, but didn't break his stride. "How do you know I have a girlfriend?"

Jack shrugged. "I was just guessing. Just trying to make conversation," said the young man.

Picard made a derisive noise and continued to walk along quickly. But Jack kept pace with him. Finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small holo tube handing it to Jack.

Jack took it curiously and activated it, revealing an image of Jenice. "Wow," he said sounding in awe. "How old is she?"

"Almost twenty-five," said Picard, trying to sound casual. He knew that Jenice was very beautiful and he was proud to be with her even when they were having their troubles.

"What's it like to…you know, be with an older woman," Jack asked, still staring at Jenice's holo.

Picard glanced over at him and snatched the device back from Jack. "Crusher…would you have anything to compare the experience to, if I told you?"

Jack fell silent with embarrassment. "Maybe," he said eventually.

"Right…" Picard murmured. They continued to walk along without talking for a few more blocks. Picard began to wonder if this kid was going to follow him all the way home. If he was, he might as well talk to him. "Actually…she and I aren't getting along too well," he said finally.

"Why?" asked Jack.

Picard shrugged. "Perhaps we're too different."

Jack shook his head in confusion. "She's incredible. How could you not get along with her?"

"She is a wonderful person and she's brilliant. But, I'm beginning to believe that I was never meant to be in a relationship. I simply do not know how to function as half of a couple. Sometimes I think I want to be with her forever, but most times I want to run as far away from her as possible."

Jack stared at him. "I don't get it. Don't you want to give it a chance? If I could ever find a woman like that, as beautiful as that…I would stay with her forever."

Picard looked at him. "I hope that you find that woman then, Jack." He smiled. "Maybe if we're still friends in ten years, I will get to meet her."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Worf preceded Captain Picard into sick bay and was almost to Allen Harrow's recovery room before he was slowed by Doctor Crusher who stepped into his path. "What's going on Worf?" she demanded.

Worf looked down at her as Captain Picard approached them from behind. "Doctor," said Worf. "We are here to…obtain information from Mr. Harrow."

"I see." She looked around Worf's large frame at Picard, who had just arrived. "Captain, Doctor Harrow is still in recovery. He's in no condition to answer questions about events which have clearly traumatized him."

" _Doctor_ Harrow?" Picard looked at her inquisitively.

"Yes," said Crusher. "Allen Harrow is a scientist—a geneticist to be precise."

"Oh. Well thank you for the clarification, Doctor, but I think Mr. Worf and I will gather the remainder of our information from _Doctor_ Harrow himself. Now, please excuse us," he said, attempting to walk around Beverly.

She stepped in front of the door. Picard reddened, and looked at her questioningly. "Can we discuss this before you just go barging in there, Captain?" Seeing that this made him even more irate, she lowered her voice. "In my office, sir?" she said glancing at Worf apologetically. Worf shrugged imperceptibly. He was uninterested in getting involved in such matters between Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher.

Picard said nothing, but gestured with his arm toward her office for her to go ahead.

* * *

Once in the privacy of her office, he faced her angrily. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Of what?" She glared back at him, apparently unaffected by his ire.

"Questioning my authority at every turn, that's what," he snapped. "And I will tell you something else, Doctor…I do not _barge_ anywhere on this ship. After all, it is under my command."

"But Doctor Harrow is in my sick bay, and under _my_ treatment, Captain."

 _Fair enough_ , he thought, but couldn't resist a dig. "So it's back to 'Doctor Harrow', then. Because before I could have sworn that you were on a first name basis with him."

She sat down on the edge of her desk. "Does it matter if I am?"

"It does if your familiarity with him clouds your judgment, Doctor," he said tensely.

"And what about your judgment, Captain? Is your judgment clouded?" she questioned.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Allen has been talking about you as though he knows you, Captain. And he seems to be afraid of you. Any idea why?"

Picard could feel a sense of outrage beginning to take him over. "I do know Allen Harrow…under circumstances which are not now currently relevant as far as I can tell, operating with little to no information as I am. And I don't know whether he is afraid of me or not. But if he is afraid of me…well perhaps that is a question best asked of your friend Doctor Harrow. Now if you will excuse me Doctor," he said and turned to leave.

"He wasn't my friend," she called after him. He turned and looked at her, and if his expression hadn't been so cold, she might have spared him the truth. But she didn't. "We were lovers," she said boldly. "After Jack died. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

His expression had changed from anger to something completely unreadable. "No," he said quietly and left.

* * *

When Picard and Worf walked into Harrow's room, Counselor Troi was already with him; a point Doctor Crusher had neglected to mention. But now he wondered if the whole scene had been designed to keep him away from Harrow long enough to allow Troi to talk with the man. He didn't care. He wanted answers, and judging by Worf's expression, so did the security chief.

"Counselor, I have business with Doctor Harrow now. You are more than welcome to remain here," said Picard.

Deanna nodded. "Thank you Captain, I believe that I will," she said moving slightly away from Harrow's bedside. She had succeeded in calming Doctor Harrow to the point that she sensed a palpable change in his demeanor when Captain Picard walked in. And the change was not for the better. If she had to put a word to Harrow's feelings at that moment she would have said he felt trapped. She glanced over her shoulder at Doctor Crusher who had appeared and stood in the doorway watching quietly. If Captain Picard knew or minded that she was there, he didn't indicate it. He was entirely focused on Harrow in a way that concerned Deanna slightly. But not enough for her to say anything to the Captain yet. She would see where that focus took him first.

Picard pulled up a chair and said down next to Harrow's bedside as Harrow eyed him with obvious anxiety. Worf stood nearby, looming over the frail looking scientist.

"Doctor Harrow…welcome aboard my ship," Picard said. Harrow said nothing, but leaned back against the pillows, looking nervous. "I would introduce myself, but apparently you remember me quite well," Picard continued. "That is positive, for there are a number of questions we would like answers to, and it's good to know that your memory is still intact."

"After all of these years," said Harrow distantly. "You still have that arrogance, Picard. You don't know what you're up against," he warned.

Picard leaned in, ignoring the personal jab. "You're quite right, Doctor. We have very little useful information, and that is why we are here. Tell us what we're up against."

"Unfortunately, Captain, most of what I know is classified. What do you want to know?"

Picard smiled tightly. "For starters, why is it that a ship we were tracking in this region does not appear on our sensors at all?"

Harrow shook his head. "I really cannot tell you, Captain," he said.

"You can't or you won't?" asked Picard. Harrow didn't answer.

"Does your ship have a cloaking device?" Worf demanded.

Harrow looked up at him. "First of all, it's not my ship. And no, it does not have a cloaking device. As you know, the development of cloaking devices by the Federation is illegal."

"Nevertheless you were on a classified scientific mission," said Worf. "Even if it were illegal, it seems you would not tell us," he said. Harrow smiled slightly.

"So," said Picard. "Perhaps if you cannot tell us why the ship is not visible on our sensors, you can still tell us its location."

"It has no location," said Harrow. Picard stood up suddenly, and paced away from the bed. He was trying very hard to keep his temper under control. He glanced up at Beverly who stood in the doorway. She ignored his gaze, seemingly transfixed by the topic of conversation. A fresh rush of anger flowed through him.

"What do you mean?" demanded Worf. "Has it been destroyed?"

Harrow hesitated. "Yes," he said. "I escaped in that pod just before it exploded."

"Why didn't you just say so earlier? Who destroyed it? You?" Picard had turned back around. What had Harrow meant about Picard not knowing what he was up against?

"No," said Harrow. "One of the other crew members set the self-destruct sequence."

"Who?"

"Commander Robinson," said Harrow.

Picard walked closer to the bed. "Why would he do such a thing?"

Harrow took a deep breath. "He went mad. They all did. They were murderous. I thought I would never get away alive."

"And yet, you did," accused Worf. "The blood of the crew was all over your flight suit, Doctor."

Harrow drew a suddenly shaky hand over his eyes. "I can't…I can't talk about this right now. I just told you, they went mad. I had to get away from them."

"Doctor Harrow…why would the entire crew go mad?"

"Captain, I beg of you, just leave this place. The ship has been destroyed, I told you."

Picard's communicator beeped. "Go ahead," he said testily.

"Captain, we have a problem." Riker's voice was filled with concern.

"What is it, Number One?"

 _"_ _We are experiencing a slow energy drain, Captain. Data just detected it. And…as of just less than a minute ago, we are being pulled further into the Sargasso Sea. So far we haven't been able to reverse our heading, sir."_

* * *

 **2340**

Spurred on by what Jack had said, Ensign Jean-Luc Picard decided to go back to Jenice's apartment. After all, she had told him to return when he had cooled off, and he was quite calm now. He was also in the mood, and wondered if she had forgiven him, and if she was also in the mood. She had mentioned something earlier in the day about throwing a party that evening, but he doubted, after their argument that she had followed through with it. He hoped she hadn't because he wanted to be alone with her. As he exited the lift on the third floor of her building, he slowed his steps. He heard loud music pounding from inside Jenice's apartment. _"Oh no,"_ he thought. She had people in there after all. But something made him open the door. Pushing the security code in, he unlocked the door. The lights were dimmed and some kind of loud electronic music was playing.

Two young women and a young man sat on Jenice's couch laughing and looking quite intimate. All three were wearing very little clothing. Picard stared at them for a moment, before shouting, "Where's Jenice?" over the noise. One of the women gestured for him to come closer, and the man also appeared to be looking him up and down with interest. He shook his head and stayed where he was, and waited for Jenice to come out. When she did, he waved her over. She also was very scantily clad. "Jenice, what is going on? What are you doing?"

Her eyes were cloudy as though she were on some kind of hallucinogen. She touched his face and whispered in his ear. "Having some fun, Jean-Luc. I'm sorry about before. Want to join us?"

He looked at her with shock. "For what?"

"You asked if I was seeing other people, Jean-Luc. Well…what does it look like? But I want you to join us. It just wouldn't be the same without you."

He was completely thrown. "Jenice, are you intoxicated?"

She shook her head. "No, Jean-Luc. Well, maybe a little," she admitted eyeing some blue pills on the coffee table. "But this isn't the drugs talking. Jean-Luc, this is who I am."

"Meaning I am not enough for you," he clarified. "I'm not interested in having an orgy, Jenice."

"Jean-Luc why do you have to make it seem so ugly? I love you…but I have the capacity to love many other people too. Don't you see it?"

"No," he said, wondering again if he even had the capacity to love one person. "Are my workout clothes still here?"

"Yes, in the bedroom where you left them. Why?"

He pushed past her angrily. "I'm going to get changed and then go for a run."

* * *

 **Thirty minutes later…**

He almost never ran on the athletic track next to the gym anymore. Why he did so that night became one of many blurry questions he never found an answer to when he recalled the events of that evening in later years. The track was well-lit overhead by large hovering mobile lights, and he could see that construction on the new gym had begun just yards away from the western edge of the track. A new gym he would only use when on shore leave, or on some other kind of Earth business. Because very soon he would leave this place behind.

He had run two miles before he had developed a good rhythm. Soon after that he heard the crying. Slowing his pace, and turning his head to try and locate the person, he could see dimly that someone was crouched under the bleachers. He stopped and tried to get a better look. Bizarrely the hairs on the back of his neck and arms suddenly stood up. His heart began to beat quickly and he questioned why he had not simply gone back to his own place. He knew the answer. Athletics were a refuge for him and he had literally that night, attempted to run from his problems. But now, here was someone with perhaps greater problems than his own. But why did he feel an instinctual fear?

"Merde," he muttered, not wanting to get mixed up in anything too dramatic, given previous events that evening. His breath puffed out in front of him in little clouds, as he walked toward the person under the bleachers. A student, perhaps. As he neared the stands he could see that it was a teenage girl, still crouching down.

"Hey," he called out. "Are you alright?"

She looked up then, still crouching, and he could see in her eyes an eerie green reflection bouncing back at him. She had stopped crying, and instead looked at him with a look of confusion. And then there was an odd look of recognition. She smiled, and the green shimmer seemed to grow more vibrant.

"Shit," he said again, taking a big step back. And then she began to run full speed at him, but in an instant, she was no longer a teenage girl. The girl had transformed into a large scaly four-legged creature, moving swiftly toward him over the ground; so swiftly, that he was unable to get out of the way fast enough and the creature ran over him with a deafening roar. He cried out, and then everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Picard stepped in to the turbo lift with Deanna and Worf trailing behind. "So, Counselor…no doubt you sensed that I have strong opinions about Doctor Harrow, but nevertheless, I would like to hear your professional assessment of what you just witnessed. Bridge," he said to the computer.

Troi hesitated and glanced at Worf. She knew Captain Picard only wanted to hear whether she believed Harrow was lying, but there were other emotions and memories raised between the two men while in sick bay, that quite simply frightened her. She had no idea how either was keeping up the mental and emotional shields they had erected around themselves. But it seemed, that now Harrow's barriers were failing. The man was losing his mind. But these were issues she did not think were appropriate to discuss with Picard while Worf or anyone else was present.

She cleared her throat. "He _is_ hiding a number of things, Captain."

"So he is lying," Picard said. It wasn't really a question, and he did not seem surprised. Deanna wondered, and not for the first time at the history between Picard and Harrow.

"The short answer, Captain, is that he is definitely lying about some aspects of his story. However, he is also telling the truth about others. My main concern is that Doctor Harrow has an almost uncontrollable level of fear right now. He will continue to lie as long as he believes it will keep him safe. And the other thing I am sure of is that he desperately wants the Enterprise to leave this system. And he wants us to take him with us."

"Well then," said Picard, as the turbo lift halted and the three officers stepped out on the bridge. "He appears to be out of luck at the moment, Counselor. Status, Mr. Riker," he snapped as he walked down to the command center.

Riker turned around from staring at the forward view screen. "Captain, we are unable to gain control of the helm or navigational controls. Systems read that warp drive is non-existent and impulse power is not functioning either, sir. In addition, life support systems are failing."

Picard looked at him with muted shock. "What do you mean, life support is failing? How long do we have?"

"Approximately 7 hours before temperatures drop to below zero and 12 hours before oxygen levels become critical."

"Go to Condition Blue, and alert all civilians to report to living quarters until further notice," said Picard. "In five hours, divert auxiliary power to the atmospheric controls to maintain at least a livable temperature for as long as possible. And I want cold weather gear issued immediately for wear once the temperature begins to drop."

"Aye sir," said Riker. "Unless we are able to move out of this area soon, Captain, we may never leave," said Riker.

Picard nodded and walked toward Ops and put a hand on the back of Data's chair. "Explanation, Mr. Data?"

"Sir, the reason for the power drain is as yet, unknown. However, the conditions we are currently experiencing are consistent with the stories from this region of the Far Rim. At least ninety-three ships of various origins have been reported missing in this region since the year 2278, with only twenty ships, successfully emerging from the Sargasso Sea sir."

"Hmm, please narrow down the details of those successful escapes, Mr. Data." Picard turned to look at Wesley. "Mr. Crusher, is the helm completely unresponsive?"

Wesley looked grim. "Aye sir…it's as though the controls are stuck somehow. We're—we're just drifting, sir."

Picard nodded at him encouragingly. "Don't worry, Mr. Crusher. We will make it out of this."

Wesley smiled slightly and then turned his attention back to the controls.

"Mr. Data," said Picard, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "What are our options?"

"Captain, as you requested, I studied the history of every recorded ship that escaped from the Sargasso Sea. The common successful indicator was that each was able to channel power to the propulsion systems in order to exit this region of space, Captain."

Picard sighed and looked down at Data. "Please coordinate with Commander LaForge to develop a plan of action. You can work from Engineering."

"Aye sir," said Data, getting up from his station swiftly.

Wesley glanced over at the Captain hopefully. "Captain, I would like to help, sir."

Data paused in mid-step. Picard nodded at Wesley. "Go with Data. Good luck."

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," Wesley said, getting up with a look of excitement on his young face.

* * *

 **2340**

When Jean-Luc, came to, his skin felt as if it was on fire. His body seemed as if it were covered by a film, perhaps some kind of venom given off by the creature. Had he been able to move, he would have writhed in agony. Then gradually the pain left him and a strange buzz reverberated through his body as though low currents of electricity were moving through him. For several minutes he was unable to adequately move his limbs.

Even after he was able to move, his eyes were blurry except for the glare of the hovering lights above the track, which seemed too bright now. He rested a few minutes more and then coughed slowly sitting up. Blinking he waited to get his bearings, while he surveyed the field. The creature was nowhere in sight. As he staggered to his feet he heard a noise coming from the construction site. Turning to view the disturbance, he was surprised to see the figure of a person standing near the construction scaffolding.

Coughing again, he wiped the stinging slime from his eyes and rubbed it on his t-shirt. Walking forward he squinted, trying to focus his vision. It wasn't the girl this time. "Allen?" He called out. "Cadet Harrow! Is that you?"

The person stepped out of the shadows. "I killed her! Happy now you have a confession?"

Picard walked toward him cautiously. He was beyond confused. "Of course, I'm not happy, Harrow. But you need to turn yourself in to security."

"Why?"

"Because you need to face the consequences, of killing another human being, Allen." His own words brought back the image of the giant lizard creature which had a few minutes before run him down. Was that creature the same person he was facing right now? The same person who had so recently appeared as a teenage girl? If Allen had turned into that creature, was he even addressing a human being right now?

The figure before him smiled and his eyes shimmered the same eerie green color he had seen just before the girl had turned into a fearsome creature. Picard took a step backward.

"You will have to catch me first!" In a flash, the person appearing to be Allen Harrow turned and ran in the opposite direction toward the scaffolding.

Picard ran after him without thinking, and watched as the figure began to climb quickly up the construction supports. He followed, unsure of the intelligence of his decision. He leapt onto the structure and began climbing as quickly as he could. He was determined to catch Harrow. Focusing on placing his hands and feet, he propelled himself upward. Once as he drew nearer to Allen, the figure above him turned to glare down at him, and then transformed instantly into the lizard creature.

Now on four legs, his quarry moved nearly in the blink of an eye, moving far more quickly than he ever could have. He watched as it scampered over the top of the scaffold, its tail whipping above him. Would it be waiting for him when he reached the top? Not daring to look down, he knew that he was now so high above the track that he would be killed if he fell. Morbidly, he considered that perhaps he would also be killed if he succeeded in reaching the top.

Gathering his strength and his courage, he climbed the rest of the way up through the scaffolding. Finally he reached a shaky hand up over the edge and felt around for some kind of handhold. Finding a groove in the flooring he shoved his fingers in. Gaining leverage with his legs, he was able to finally heave himself up onto the platform. He gasped for breath and stood up as he saw that the figure of Harrow was now standing on the opposite edge of the platform, looking down. Picard chose not to look back over the edge where he had ascended from. His stomach was already queasy enough as it was.

"It's time to stop running, Allen," he called out.

"I don't want to live like this," was the reply.

Picard took a step forward and took a deep breath. "Who are you?" he called out. "You don't have to continue to pretend to be someone else anymore. I will make sure you get the help that you need." He took another step forward. "I promise," he added. "But Allen, you've got to come with me...to turn yourself in." He moved closer. "Get away from that edge-it's too dangerous," he warned.

"You won't rest until you've shown yourself to be the hero by taking me in, will you? Well, I don't want to go with you." The figure shrunk down suddenly showing itself now to be the fragile teenage girl again. She began to cry. "It's not Allen's fault," she sobbed. "Leave him alone."

Picard licked his dry lips and stepped forward. He was not the type to know how to give comfort, and what's more he was highly confused. But perhaps he could reason with this version of this creature. He held up his hands as if in surrender. "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "Please…who are you?"

The girl's lip trembled. "Claudia," she said.

"Claudia," Picard said, "I only want to help you. Do you know what happened to Parvati Singh?"

The girl's face suddenly contorted and she dropped to all fours. Realizing that she was again transforming, he sprung out of the way quickly, crying out in alarm.

He rolled out of the way and when he got to his feet again he could see the dark green lizard creature, roughly twelve feet long, swinging its powerful tail. It sprung at him and roared, spraying him with venom. He screamed and raked at his eyes, but could see nothing. Staggering backward, he stumbled just as a large clawed hand swiped over his head, just missing him. Falling onto his back, he scrambled backward groaning with pain, as the creature advanced on him.

He rolled onto his belly and continued to crawl toward what he had seen was a temporary wall. Nearly blind, he reached out and felt the wall, and then turned around again, retreating until his back was against the wall. He moved his hands frantically around on the ground. Hadn't he seen some metal piping scattered around? His hand rested on a cold tube. It was heavy and metal, that was all he knew. He felt the hot breath of the creature as it advanced, and he turned his head to the side, seeing only two large shimmering green eyes through the haze.

His hand closed tight on the pipe, and he swung out blindly with a yell. The pipe glanced off the hard scaly armor of the creature, but he immediately brought the pipe back and thrust it toward one of the shining eyes. The creature roared and scampered back toward the edge of the platform. Picard crawled quickly after it on all fours, and the creature continued to retreat until it stumbled and two of its legs slipped over the edge. The tail whipped around and hit him in the legs as it lost its balance and fell. Stunned from having been struck by the tail he slammed into the platform, and fell unconscious.

* * *

"Captain, I would like to request that Doctor Harrow be allowed to remain in sick bay for at least another day." Doctor Crusher stood in the ready room with a stony expression, mirroring the Captain's own sullen countenance.

Captain Picard looked up from his floating star map. For the last half hour he had been trying to make sense of the situation the ship was now in; floating nearly helpless in space, as all systems slowly crashed. "Fine," he said, and then turned back to the star map.

Crusher looked surprised, but since Picard wasn't looking, it hardly mattered. "Fine? That's it? I expected that after your insistence on interrogating Allen that you would be more resistant to seeing him remain in recovery."

"I am very sorry to disappoint, Doctor, but I have more serious concerns at this point than Allen Harrow's emotional status. Besides, as you heard yourself, Harrow claims his ship was destroyed. The ship we were charged with bringing home. So yes, my focus has indeed shifted away from Doctor Harrow."

She pressed her lips together. "I know." Wesley was in Engineering with Geordi and Data trying to find a way to boost the propulsion systems enough to push the ship out of the predicament they were in. It was at times like this that she had an appreciation for the difficult position of captain. As difficult as her job was, he was the ultimate decision-maker, responsible for everyone on the ship. And at this very moment his decisions could decide whether they would escape this situation alive. She was silent for a few moments. He continued to study the star map as though she wasn't there. "But still…I know you're busy now, but maybe we should discuss this soon, Jean-Luc."

He looked up, with a blank expression. "Discuss what?"

She tried not to grow angry. He had decided that he was going to be difficult and there was no way to coax or even force him out of his mood. She knew him well enough to know that. "I know you're not happy to hear that Allen and I have a history. I upset you with what I said, and I'm sorry, Jean-Luc."

Picard finally looked away from the star map. He stood up slowly. "Upset? What made you think that I was upset?"

Beverly touched her hand to her forehead and looked down at the floor, then looked back up at him again. "I could tell—look, give me some credit, Jean-Luc. We've known each other a long time. My relationship with Allen—" She stopped in mid-sentence because he actually flinched at the word 'relationship'.

His brow creased. "Doctor your _relationship_ is none of my business," he said. "Unless of course, Doctor Harrow's feelings for you have the ability to propel my ship out of this sector, which if I have not made clear, is my main concern."

"Now who is being hurtful, Jean-Luc?" Crusher accused softly.

"I had no intentions to make this personal, Doctor. You were the one who marched in here and –"

"Well, you never intend to make it personal, do you, Jean-Luc? In fact, you go out of your way _not_ to make it personal. Have it your way then…you always do," she said as she turned to leave.

* * *

 **The Academy**

Cadet Allen Harrow's eyes snapped open in the darkness. There was someone in his room. His eyes shifted to the clock next to his bed. It was just after midnight. "Who's there?" he demanded to know. He could see now that a hunched shadow stood near his door. He felt a chill shiver through his body, as the eyes shimmered green as they had ever so briefly back in the micro lab. It was her. He sat up. "Claudia? What are you doing here?"

"Allen…" her voice sounded damaged. "Help me," she croaked hoarsely.

"Lights, forty percent," he said trying to sound more brave that he felt. He sat up in bed. "Claudia?"

She limped toward him. Her skin was alternately human and reptilian in areas, and she appeared severely injured. "I fell, Allen. I think I am going to die."

Allen rushed out of bed. He was specializing in genetics, and was miles ahead of the rest of his class. Some said that he was a genius; that he had the potential to make great scientific discoveries. Claudia had a genetic condition of some kind—is that why she was so interested in him? Or was she an alien?

"Claudia, tell me what happened," he said, moving closer to her.

"He wants to see you punished, Allen. I couldn't let him. I—I wanted to kill him, but I ended up falling from very high."

He studied her face, and then it all became so clear. She had said she loved him, had asked him if he had loved Parvati. She could shift it seemed from one shape to another; even between species perhaps. That explained why a witness had seen him exiting Parvati's room just after she was killed. Claudia had killed Parvati, and yet instead of anger or hatred, he felt pity. He felt a need to help her. She was sick and needed treatment.

"Did you kill him? Did you kill Picard?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't know," she said. "Allen, they want me to return to the lab...for more tests. But I can't go without you, Allen. I would rather die than be without you."

He stared at her in shock. "Lab? What lab? Who wants you to return?"

"Please stay with me, Allen. Will you help me?"

He nodded. "Yes," he agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

 **2340 Starfleet Medical ICU**

"Is he stable?" The voice asked.

"Yes, and he is recovering nicely," said another voice.

"Good" said the first voice, which was now distinctly female and somewhat familiar. "Continue bringing him out of sedation then. A few torn knee ligaments and temporary blindness seem a reasonable price to pay, for such a great accomplishment," she added, now sounding much louder to him. Were they talking about him? Yes, he must be in the hospital. He had survived the attack, and now they were describing his injuries as survivable. His eyes burned and his right knee throbbed.

"Chancellor, the burns to his eyes were quite serious," said the second voice disapprovingly. "Although temporary as you pointed out."

He felt his head clear a bit, but he still could not see. There was some kind of bandage over his eyes. He reached up and touched it gingerly. "Careful," warned the doctor, and he felt a gentle hand reach out to prevent him from causing himself damage.

Chancellor Villatoro leaned over him. "Jean-Luc, we have you to thank for delivering us a most remarkable individual," she said.

"Chancellor, is this the same remarkable individual who murdered Parvati Singh?" Picard asked hoarsely.

There was a pause. "Yes," said the Chancellor.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked, feeling a growing outrage. "You knew who…or what the killer was."

"We knew it wasn't poor Allen Harrow," said the Chancellor.

"But he is involved somehow, isn't he?" Picard questioned. "I don't trust him," he said angrily.

He felt the Chancellor touch his wrist. "Jean-Luc, don't upset yourself. You need to rest…perhaps a sedative," she said, and he felt her step away.

"No, wait…" said Jean-Luc, as he heard the hiss of the hypo spray and felt his head slump forward and sleep take him again.

* * *

 **Late 2354**

"Have you heard from him, Walker?" She tried not to sound too needy or even hopeful. Why should she, after all? Why did she feel she needed to talk with him? Was it just another way to connect to Jack, who had been dead nearly a year now? "It's been eight months…since I've spoken to him," she added and knew that despite her attempts to hide it, her old friend could tell she was hurting; even through the barrier of a view screen.

She had even written to him, but he'd never responded. Well once he had responded to say he was heading for a deep space mission and would be out of touch. Besides, when had he not been out of touch? It had been an excuse, they had both known. It was an excuse for him not to have to talk to her on anything more than a superficial level. And she had gone along with it, because she had been lonely at the time even for mindless conversation.

The _Stargazer_ was his life, and she shouldn't be surprised; no she was never surprised, that there was apparently no room for her friendship. But she was angry at herself for caring.

"No, I haven't heard from him, Bev," said Walker sympathetically. "But you know Jean-Luc; not the best at keeping in touch. My guess is he is not even within subspace communication range right now anyway."

She had nodded, but realized at that moment that perhaps she really did not know Jean-Luc. And now that Jack was dead, and there was nothing to connect the two of them, perhaps she would never know him. "Of course. Look Walker, best of luck on Relva Four. I will see you in a few months?"

"Bet on it," he had said. "We're going to get this new Academy testing facility up and running very soon. Love you," he said, signing off.

"Love you too," she said with a smile. When she had turned off the viewer she had considered writing to Jean-Luc again, giving him some kind of ultimatum if he continued to refuse to contact her, confessing her own desires...just letting everything out. But instead, she had made the odd decision to call Allen. She hadn't seen him in a few months, but he had been so kind to her last time, in a kind of distant way. She knew that he and Jack had been friends years ago, from the Academy days. Somehow he was familiar enough, but not as familiar as Picard, and so somehow it seemed alright. As guilty as she felt, she knew she needed companionship and affection. Yes, she had decided, she would contact Allen. And that was how it had started with him.

* * *

 **2366 Enterprise**

Picard and Riker sat side by side wearing cold weather parkas. The environmental controls had been compromised to the extent that the temperature had now dropped to uncomfortable levels. Elsewhere on the ship, in particular the family quarters, the oxygen levels and the heating systems had been boosted where possible, in order to enhance the comfort level a bit, but the unspoken fear was setting in that they would not get out of this predicament alive.

Picard sat in frustration thinking as puffs of his breath now froze with each exhalation. A few minutes earlier, Data had called in for a report, explaining that they were no closer to getting the propulsion systems going. In fact it appeared the situation was getting worse.

"Troi to Captain Picard," drifted counselor Troi's calm voice through the chilly air.

"Go ahead, Counselor," he replied.

"Captain, I am in the main conference room with Doctor Harrow, and he would like to speak with you. He says it is very important."

Picard frowned and looked over at Riker. "Thank you, Counselor, I'm on my way."

Pulling a winter hat down over his ears, he walked quickly to the conference room and entered. Harrow and Troi sat side by side at the table. They too were bundled up to stave off the cold.

Harrow once again appeared afraid, but of what, Picard could not tell. He smiled slightly, as it occurred to him that Troi looked almost protective sitting there at his side. Was Allen painting him to be the villain? How interesting.

He stood in front of them with an impatient expression. "Yes?"

Troi glanced at Harrow as though they had planned for him to do the talking, and he was not following through with the plan. Finally, Harrow seemed to get the idea.

"Captain, we are in grave danger," he said.

Picard folded his arms over his chest and glanced up at the ceiling then back at Harrow. "Doctor Harrow…if you have called me in to state the obvious, I am well aware of the dilemma we are in. We are stuck in a remote section of space in an area known for trapping ships, and we are indeed trapped. Every second I stand here talking to you—"

"The more your time is wasted, Captain?" finished Harrow. "Well, I won't waste your time then, Captain Picard. If we don't get out of here soon, we will be killed, and not by freezing to death."

Picard glared at him waiting for additional details. Troi looked at Harrow again. "Tell him, Allen."

Harrow took a deep breath. "Beverly's at risk. Possibly more than anyone else on this ship."

Picard walked forward. "What do you mean she's at risk?" demanded Picard. Harrow was silent. "Well, you can't just make a statement like that without explanation now can you, Harrow? Why is she in danger?"

Troi shook her head. "He won't tell us the source of the danger, Captain. But he is telling the truth about the gravity of the situation."

Picard put his hands flat on the table. "And you won't tell me why we are facing this unknown danger? If you care about Beverly, you will damn well tell me now," he thundered.

Allen's lips trembled. "We've got to get out of here before we all die, Picard. Just get us out of here!" He stood up and grabbed Picard by the collar of his jacket and shook him. Picard batted his hands away. Giving Allen a disgusted look he turned around and stalked out of the conference room.

* * *

As Picard strode back on to the bridge, things seemed to suddenly begin to unravel.

"The environmental controls continue to go haywire Captain," said the replacement officer at ops. "It's raining on decks 13 through 18."

"Get it under control, Lieutenant," he snapped.

"Trying sir, but it's not working," said the young man, tapping at the controls in frustration.

"Try harder Rodriguez," said Picard, walking away. "It does not _rain on my ship_ ," he declared.

"Aye sir."

Suddenly the deck shook underneath their feet. Picard turned around and walked quickly back to ops, leaning on the back of Rodriguez' seat. "What was that?"

"Captain," said Worf. We have taken damage on decks 21 and 23."

"From what?" demanded Riker.

"Unknown, Captain," said Worf. "We are experiencing some kind of energy pulse. An invisible weapon," he said.

"Red alert!" Picard shouted, walking back up toward Lieutenant Worf.

"Let's get a visual, if we can," ordered Riker.

Worf tried but with no results. "The sensors show nothing sir, until the energy pulse is already upon us." He staggered as a stronger burst shook the ship.

"It's getting worse," warned Riker. "Our shields are already powered down as it is."

"Are the bursts focused on one section of the ship?" asked Picard.

Worf shook his head. "No, sir. Despite the power of the beam hitting us, it seems more like a probe. As if someone is searching for something," he said.

"Can we determine the vector from which it is being fired?" asked the Captain.

Worf's fingers flew over the controls, catching the Captain's meaning. "I can estimate, sir, but we will have to wait for the next pulse."

Picard nodded and moved to sit down. "As soon as we are fired on, fire a spread of photon torpedoes." Worf nodded and when the next energy pulse came, he fired, but the strike this time seemed more powerful even than before.

"Hull breach on Deck 12!" shouted Worf. "Casualties reported sir."

Picard stood up quickly. _Deck 12…Beverly._ "Begin evacuation from Deck 12 immediately," he barked, his voice not betraying any of his innermost fears.

"The hull breach has been repaired, Captain," said Riker from a science station. "But no telling how long we can hold the shield patch in the condition we're in, sir."

* * *

 _A few minutes later…._

"Captain, the attacks have stopped for now," reported Worf.

"Continue evacuations from Deck 12, and evacuate Decks 11 and 13 just to be sure," ordered Picard.

"Main Sickbay is still showing personnel present, Captain," reported Worf.

 _Damn it, Beverly,_ Picard thought. He hesitated and then walked up the ramp toward the turbo lift. "I'm going down to main sick bay," he announced, and stepped into the lift before Riker could object.

"This area has been evacuated, Doctor Crusher," announced Picard as he walked in to the main sick bay carrying a spare parka and hat.

Crusher barely glanced up. "I know, Captain. But as you can see, I am treating an injured crewman. I am almost done," she reassured him.

Picard stood expectantly, holding the jacket in his arms.

"Why aren't you wearing one of the jackets we issued, Doctor?"

"It's difficult for me to treat my patients wearing such bulky clothing, Captain," she said simply.

Picard nodded. "As always, Doctor I applaud your adherence to duty. However it does your patients little good, if you become hypothermic while trying to care for them. And it would upset me greatly to see you fall ill. I need you healthy, Doctor."

"Why Captain, that's very thoughtful of you to say," Beverly said sharing a surprised and slightly amused look with her patient, who smiled back nervously.

"You're all set, Jeff," she said patting the crewman's ankle. Be careful out there." The young man nodded with a smile and slid off of the table, testing out his leg and nodding at Captain Picard respectfully before hurrying out of sick bay.

Picard followed Beverly, as she packed away her tools, feeling the need to explain himself. "Doctor, when I said your falling ill would upset me, I only meant..."

"Oh, Captain, think nothing of it. Of course I know you meant nothing _personal_ by it," she said sweetly.

Picard blushed slightly and leaned on an empty examination bed. "Well, perhaps I did..."

She glanced at him sideways, packing something into her med kit. "Did what?" She prompted, as the case clicked shut.

Picard looked as though he were steeling himself for the most important speech of his life. "Perhaps I did mean to say something personal. Sometimes I have some difficulty expressing my emotions, Doctor."

"Yes...I had noticed that," she said quietly.

"But that doesn't mean that I don't have them." He saw her grow still as she watched him curiously. "Emotions, that is. I have emotions," he added awkwardly.

She turned to face Picard, holding her med kit. "I know you do, Jean-Luc," she said quietly. "Look, it was good of you to come looking for me, Captain. It's not like you to leave the bridge in times of trouble."

He didn't want to tell her what Harrow had said. The thought of her being specifically targeted frightened him, for he already felt helpless to save his crew. He held out the coat for her. "It's freezing out in the corridor. You're going to need this."

She smiled. "Thank you," she said, taking the jacket carefully. He took her med kit as she put it on.

* * *

They stepped out into the hallway and nearly fell forward. Beverly put a hand on his arm. The deck, walls and even ceiling were covered in sheets of ice. "When you said it was freezing I thought you were exaggerating. Apparently you were actually understating things a bit, Captain. How are we going to get down this hall?"

Picard sucked in a breath. "Very carefully," he said, and taking her hand he began to slide forward testing his footing on the ice. She followed behind him and then they walked carefully side by side, and for a few silently amusing moments it felt as though they were children skating hand in hand. But just for a few moments, until they realized that the door of the turbo lift at the end of the hallway was frozen shut.

"Shit," breathed Crusher, annoyed.

Picard nodded his head toward the wall. "Jeffries tube," he said. "We've got to get back up to a safe area. The temporary patch over the hull won't hold much longer."

The hatch to the tube was iced over, but between the two of them they knocked off the ice and cracked it open. Picard slid into the Jeffries tube and then reached back out for Beverly. "Come on," he urged her. She made a face, but then grabbed his hands and she climbed in beside him. He shut the hatch with a clang. Thankfully, there was no ice inside the tube, but it was still frigid.

Crusher shivered, looking at him in the dim light. "Now what?"

"Now…we climb," he said simply, and crawled on his hands and knees to a utility ladder. He stood up and looked back at Crusher. She hesitated. She hated heights and small spaces. At that moment, she wasn't sure it mattered which she hated more because she had to face them both at once. Sighing, she crawled over to Picard and then stood up next to him. _Too close,_ she thought and backed up slightly. He blinked slightly at her. Was that his way of showing her he was offended? Hmm.

"Riker to Captain Picard."

Picard tapped his communicator, glad in a way to be spared from awkward silence and the even more awkward closeness of Crusher. "Yes, go ahead."

"Sir, you've got to get back up here. There's…." Riker trailed off.

"What is it?" snapped Picard, pulling his hat down over his ears. Beverly looked at him with growing amusement and then looked down at her feet to keep from laughing.

"Sir, it's a ship. And it matches the description of the science vessel Dr. Harrow claimed was destroyed."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **2354 Starfleet Medical**

The "Scientist" as Beverly had decided to secretly call him, had been temporarily using the bio labs near her ER for month now. He was tall with dark hair and boyish good looks. He seemed shy and withdrawn, but totally in command of his work-whatever it was that he had been doing. He had no other staff with him, which was odd, because it seemed he was working on something important. And she confirmed it was important work when she looked up the research database and found that whatever research was being performed in Bio Lab 6 was classified, as was the name of the scientist performing the work, so she had hit a dead end.

But even so, something about the scientist seemed familiar and she felt compelled to find out more about him. Then one day, she made up a reason to go into the lab, to grab something from the supply closet. Seeing him up close she finally realized why he had seemed familiar to her. She had seen him at the funeral. He had passed through the crowd of people, paid his respects and then left.

She had noticed, because she had been near Jean-Luc at the time, and his face had changed when the man had entered their view. The man had nodded briefly to both of them, and then departed. Picard had stiffened, but said nothing. She hadn't asked who he was, because at the time, she hadn't cared. She hadn't cared about anything but missing Jack. And Jean Luc had said very little, so much so that he seemed hardly present. He was under investigation for Jack's death, and the court martial had already begun.

She knew he felt guilty but she had no desire to discuss the issue of guilt with him. He hadn't told her the full story of what had happened to her husband, so if he thought she was going to tell him not to feel bad, not to feel guilty, he was mistaken. Until she knew the truth of what had happened to Jack, she would blame Picard; the only person who knew how Jack had spent his final moments, and kept it selfishly hidden from her. Mostly they had stood together in uncomfortable silence, but that was fine, for at least he had been there.

Now, months later, both Jean-Luc and Jack were gone. Jack had been tragically killed, but Jean-Luc was absent by choice. She wiped all thought of him out of her mind, mainly because she imagined he had done the same with thoughts of her. She paused, watching the scientist brooding over some multi-colored vials he was staring at on one if the lab tables. He was so intent on them, that it appeared he thought they might move. It was as though he was completely unaware of her presence.

Getting up the nerve, she took a step forward and was alarmed at the loud sound of her own boot. "Hello," she called out across the lab. The scientist jumped, clearly startled, and she immediately felt badly. But she was no shrinking violet and pressed on.

"I'm Beverly. Beverly Crusher. My husband was Jack Crusher...I think you knew him?"

The man's jaw dropped open, and he straightened. "Yes. Yes, I did. I'm Allen. Allen Harrow. Jack and I knew each other from back at the Academy."

Beverly smiled. "Oh yes...the recluse."

Allen looked confused. "Recluse?"

Beverly shrugged. "Jack said you were a genius. He always talked about you from your days in school, but he always wondered what you were doing. He said you made some kind of a major discovery while at the Academy...disappeared for months."

Harrow smiled good naturedly. "And when I returned I had become a recluse?"

"Well, Jack was worried about you...he was a very loyal friend."

"Yes, he was," agreed Harrow. "No one ever accepted me for who I was; no one except Jack."

Beverly smiled, but talking about Jack would only make her sad. "I hope I didn't startle you," she said, trying to change the subject.

"No. I've seen you around but didn't know what to say. I never seem to know quite what to say...especially to women like you."

Beverly was both embarrassed and amused at the same time. "Women like me?"

Allen stuttered nervously. "S—sophisticated…beautiful women," he finally got out, managing to look and sound even more awkward.

Beverly blushed, because he was so sincere, that it was easy to overlook his odd delivery. "Well...that is lovely of you to say Doctor Harrow-I'm right that it's doctor?"

He nodded. "Yes, but please call me Allen", he said.

Beverly smiled. "Alright...well, I am a doctor as well, but call me Beverly. So Allen…I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about the work you're doing."

He smiled but looked uncomfortable. "I am working on the perfection of an adaptable gene." He looked down at his shoes, suddenly appearing self-conscious. "I've been working on this project for years, in fact. It's very far from completion, I am afraid."

Beverly was sympathetic, knowing first-hand how much trial and error, and patience serious research required. "So, are you developing more resilient vaccines, or…."

"No," he said quickly. "I am researching the question of…whether one being can ever really change itself into something fundamentally different."

"There are many shape-shifting species, if that's what you mean," Beverly said with a shrug. Observing his wounded reaction, she immediately regretted her casual response to something which had obviously preoccupied Allen for so many years.

"But there are very few of those species that can do more than simulate the appearance of another object or being. And for each of them there is a default appearance they return to when not shape shifting. What if you could change yourself into something completely different, for a day or even for a period of years? What if you could be anything…or even everything?"

She shook her head slightly. "Not for me…I'm too boring, I guess. Besides, it would be just a fantasy for a human being, wouldn't it? Humans don't have that kind of ability."

Allen looked at Beverly as though he wanted to correct her, but he didn't. "You're not boring at all. Um…are you interested in having dinner with me some time? I would love to just—just talk with you."

Beverly stared at him with a degree of shock. He was asking her out on a date? She hadn't anticipated it. It was too soon, and she could tell because Jack's death was still like an open wound in her chest. She felt guilty even considering going on a date with someone. And yet she was still interested. "I'm flattered by the invitation, Allen. I think I would enjoy talking with you too…but I'm not sure."

Allen nodded and she could tell he was feeling guilty for asking out his estranged friend's widow. "You're right, that was in bad taste. See what I mean about talking to beautiful women?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't in bad taste, it was really nice. But you're right, it is too soon. But," she added. "I'll see you around?"

Allen nodded and watched as she turned to leave.

* * *

 _ **Enterprise**_

It was a long way up to the bridge for Doctor Crusher and Captain Picard. The transporters were now unreliable due to the power drain aboard ship, and because the environmental controls were down, the temperature continued to plummet. The turbo lift on the main sick bay level was inoperative, or at least the doors were frozen shut, and so they had taken the Jeffries tube. Just as they had started their ascent to a safer level above Deck 12, they had received a call from Riker, who had announced the appearance of the missing research ship.

And so, instead of climbing up a few levels, they were climbing all the way to the bridge. At Picard's insistence, Beverly climbed first. After making a few salty remarks under her breath, Beverly had agreed to go first. She had wondered several times whether he was taking advantage of the angle to check her out, but she had never actually mentioned this out loud. Instead, she tried to concentrate on getting a good grip on each rung as she moved slowly upward.

Apparently she hated heights, which was something Picard had been unaware of until the moment he had told her they would indeed be climbing. He alternated between looking at his hands and feet as he placed them on the icy rungs, and glancing up at Beverly as she climbed. Her grace and agility was admirable, and as he could not help but notice, so were many of her other features. It was very cold and very treacherous. Twice she had slipped, nearly falling off of the slippery utility ladder. At first they tried to make light conversation, but the frozen rungs of the ladder challenged their focus.

When Beverly slipped, he reached up quickly, and had the unfortunate or depending on how you looked at it, fortunate experience of catching her tightly around the waist. Her entire weight had fallen into him, and surprisingly she was quite light. But despite the emergency situation, he could not help feeling as though he had just done something wrong. He had gripped her around the waist from behind with one arm but his other hand had somehow inexplicably come to rest on her chest. Events happened so quickly that before he could remove his hand, she had grasped it tightly, which he knew was just a reflex.

She cried out as her other hand clung desperately to the rung above her. Breathing heavily, he kicked the wall in back of him until they were pressed up against the ladder, and she was able to once again get a grip again with both her feet and hands. He ignored the physical sensations caused by being so near to her, and carefully extracted himself from her grip, holding on tightly to the ladder. "Sorry," he murmured.

* * *

Beginning her climb again, and refusing to look back at him, Beverly said merely, "thank you," sounding more than a little bit mortified by the ordeal. As the minutes rolled by they climbed on in silence, with their labored breathing taking the place of conversation.

"You should give him a chance you know," she said finally, glancing back at him, as though they had been deep in conversation the entire time.

He considered asking her who she was referring to, but of course he knew, and he wasn't in the mood to evade. "Why?" He asked gruffly. "Harrow lied to me. Why should I give him a chance?"

She laughed and he saw the resulting puff of air above him. "Because you're a very fair man, Jean-Luc. You give everyone a chance...in your way."

"In my _way_? What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

She fell silent as she pulled herself upward a few more rungs before speaking again. "Well, you have this difficult exterior...and you can be a bit hard on people."

He snorted derisively. "Nonsense. Perhaps people are just too sensitive. Besides, it's my job to be hard on people," he insisted. "It motivates them."

"Terrifies them at least," she murmured.

"What?" He asked.

"I said I hope were getting close to the bridge," she lied, speaking louder. "But really Jean-Luc. You are at heart someone who cares deeply about people, just as you care about right and wrong."

He shook his head, not following her meaning. "And?" He prompted.

"And...if Allen did lie to you, maybe he had a good reason for doing so."

He sighed, but as he was really exerting himself now, it sounded more like he was choking. "I realize you think you know Harrow, Beverly, but he's been out here almost ten years, engaged in who knows what kind of classified research. A lot can change in that amount of time."

"Did you?" She asked after a pause.

"Did I what?"

"Change...did you change? You know, from all those years ago when we knew each other."

Picard grunted as his boot slipped on the ice underneath. _She is determined to make me lose my concentration_ , he thought. "I thought we were talking about Harrow, not me," he protested, regaining his balance.

She sniffed in the cold air. "Maybe I prefer talking about you," she said, sounding almost as though she were teasing him. "Besides, it's an easier transition than you might know. You and Allen aren't that different. At least not to me," she added.

Picard suddenly found himself highly insulted and kind of confused. He said nothing as she continued to speak, but he noted a sly edge creeping into her voice.

"You're both intelligent, and withholding...traits I find attractive..."

"Jack wasn't the least bit withholding," he said, trying to ignore that she had just implied that she found him attractive. His eyes rested briefly on her legs again as they moved gracefully above him. He averted his eyes and looked down at his feet, trying to concentrate on keeping his balance rather than the shape of her calves beneath her pant legs.

"Jean Luc, do you honestly think Jack is the only man I've ever found attractive?"

He wiped ice crystals from his brow. "Well, you did say you were in a relationship with Harrow, so I suppose the answer is 'no'. But I suppose it is really none of my business."

"Isn't it?" She asked now sounding a little annoyed.

His boot slipped again. "Dammit," he said angrily, his voice echoing throughout the tube. He hooked the crook of his elbow over the rung and glared up at Beverly as though she had planned the whole thing. "This conversation is distracting," he breathed. "Could we talk about something else?"

"How about nothing at all?" she suggested instead from above, and her tone was suddenly almost as icy as their surroundings.

* * *

They climbed on in silence until they finally reached the bridge. The auxiliary entryway was covered in ice, and they labored to clear it off. When they had finally cracked the hatch open to reveal the scene on the bridge, Picard and Crusher saw that Allen Harrow stood next to Riker, and that both men were staring at the view screen.

Picard did not have to demand a report from his first officer, who turned around at the sound of the auxiliary hatch clicking open. "Captain, we are unable to raise shields...the power is too low."

The bridge was now bathed in a blue light, a reminder that the ship's life support systems continued to falter.  
Picard helped Beverly climb quickly through the hatch and then straightened turning around.

Harrow stared at him with a frightened expression and pointed at the view screen, which showed a sleek white ship about one third the size of the Enterprise. "We have to leave...I told you, Picard," Harrow said.

"What you _told_ me, Doctor Harrow, was that the ship you were on was destroyed. Now I can see with my own eyes that it is quite intact. I need an explanation from you now."

"Run a scan of its systems," Riker ordered. "Find out if it fired on us."

"Scans are inconclusive, sir," reported Worf. He paused. "Incoming message, Captain." He paused again. "The message says... _'where is Allen Harrow? You must not harm him._ ' End of message."

Picard walked a half circle around Harrow who was now frozen staring at the motionless ship on the view screen. He stepped closer to Harrow and spoke with quiet warning. "What is the meaning of this, doctor? You told me the ship was destroyed. Why? What are you hiding?"

Harrow glanced at him briefly then turned back to the screen without a word. Picard tightened his jaw reflexively.

"If you don't tell us what we're working with Doctor Harrow, we may not be able to keep you safe," said Riker. Harrow didn't even acknowledge the man's words.

"Message repeating itself, Captain," announced Worf. _"'Where is Allen Harrow?_ '"

"I am _waiting_ , Doctor Harrow," Picard said in a louder voice indicating his patience was wearing thin. He glared at the motionless scientist a few more moments and then turned away. "Fine," he said quietly.

He addressed the view screen. "Unidentified ship, this is Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the U.S.S Enterprise. You are in Federation territory. Please state your business. Are you in need of assistance?" The silence on the bridge was almost eerie, as they waited for an answer from the hovering ship.

Worf shifted above them at tactical. "Sir," he said in a puzzled voice. "The message in answer is a single word: _'Picard'_."

Picard stepped forward. "Unidentified ship; if you know who I am, then you must know we offer only assistance to you. We are... currently troubled by the difficulties involved in navigating this area of space. Perhaps if we work together we can-"

 _"_ _Captain Picard we are concerned for the safety of our crew member, Doctor Allen Harrow. It is imperative that he be returned to us safely."_

Out if the corner of his eye, Picard saw Allen shaking his head. Interesting. For as frightened as Harrow appeared to be, he wasn't frightened enough to provide Picard with any useful information.

Picard began to feel as though he had the upper hand. He had someone they wanted. Apparently Harrow was more valuable than he had given him credit for. He rubbed his jaw and began to pace in front of the view screen.

"By admitting that Dr. Harrow is your crew member, you have identified yourselves as the crew of the vessel we have been charged with finding and bringing back to Star

Base 14." Silence. "In fact, you are the crew of the research ship involved in what is known as the Eve Project, aren't you?"

"The transmission is answering 'yes' in the affirmative, Captain," reported Worf. He paused. "'Yes, our ship is called Eve.'"

"And who might I be speaking with?" asked Picard. Another long pause.

* * *

The view screen suddenly flashed on. The image appeared of a young dark skinned man in a science officer's uniform. "I am Commander Robinson", said the man. He smiled with a set of perfect teeth. "I see that Doctor Harrow is there with you. That makes us very glad," said Robinson.

"Robinson," Harrow said under his breath. He seemed quite surprised. For what reason, Picard could only guess.

"Yes, hello, Allen. Welcome home." Robinson grinned again.

Allen gripped Picard by the arm tightly. "I won't go back there. No one is making me go back there," he said.

Beverly stepped forward and touched Harrow on the shoulder, trying to calm him as Picard looked on sternly.

"Allen, it's alright. Let go of the Captain. No one is going to make you go anywhere you don't want to," she reassured him. On the view screen, Robinson's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly before the smile returned.

Picard glared at Harrow who still gripped his arm. "Doctor Harrow…I recommend you take Doctor Crusher's advice and let go of me. If I have to remove your hand myself, I can assure you, you will require far more assistance than mere advice."

Doctor Crusher looked at the Captain with a look of shock, but Harrow let go of him and stepped away.

Picard folded his arms over his chest, ignoring them and returning his gaze to the screen. "It seems, Commander

Robinson that Doctor Harrow is not as happy to see you, as you are to see him."

Robinson's smile faded slightly, but then returned. "We've been out here so long, Captain that we're almost like a family. But sometimes even families don't always get along as well as they should."

"Where is the rest of your crew?" asked Picard. "Familial

problems aside, Commander, I should like to make sure they are safe and well," he added.

Robinson's laugh held little humor. "Just deliver Doctor Harrow to us, and we will be on our way, Captain."

"I am afraid I can't accede to your wishes Commander. I have been given very specific orders, to bring your crew and ship back to Star Base 14."

"We are not traveling out if this system yet, Captain," said Robinson. "The time is not right. We still have work to do, as Allen knows well."

"Are you refusing to come with us then, Commander? I do outrank you. Please don't make me have to resort to engage in military posturing. I really do detest those kinds of displays," said Picard.

Suddenly an emergency signal blared across the bridge. " _Warning: Life support levels will go critical in 75 minutes,"_ reported the computer.

On screen Robinson was smiling again. Picard silently wished the man were here so that he could knock the smile off of his face. "Captain Picard, it seems that you are in a difficult position. If you would agree to send Doctor Harrow back to us, we might be able to help you exit this system."

* * *

Picard walked away from the screen. His ship was all but dead in space and his crew was slowly freezing to death. He adjusted his winter hat and looked around at his crew. They were waiting for him to act. Turning around slowly he faced the view screen again. "Commander, did you fire on my ship?"

"Captain, there are many strange occurrences out in this area of space. There are also bloodthirsty Orions just waiting to kill and plunder. We have been out here a long time. Perhaps we erred in mistaking you for an enemy. But now, we see you are friendly. There's no need to argue any longer."

"So…you are admitting you fired on another Federation ship. You do realize that this could be problematic for you and your work, Commander, if I report to Starfleet what you have done."

"You need us to escape this area of space, Captain. Your crew will be dead in just over an hour."

Picard walked over to his command chair and sat down slowly. He needed Robinson's help, but Robinson seemed to need Harrow returned to his ship just as much.

"Fine," said the Captain. "Then Allen Harrow will die here with us."

Robinson's face contorted with fury, and he shouted through the screen at them. Simultaneously there was a flash of white and Picard was hurled along with the rest of his crew forward and onto the deck as the bridge suddenly tilted at an extreme angle and the ship was tossed forward at a high velocity.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

 **2340 Starfleet Academy**

"Claudia says she believes that I can cure her," said Allen Harrow. He sat nervously, hands between his knees in the Academy Chancellor's office.

Chancellor Villanova stared at him serenely over her desk. "Let's just get this out in the open, Cadet Harrow: there is no cure for Claudia, and what she has is not an affliction, it is a wonderful gift."

"Then why is she suffering so much? And why did she kill Pavarti?"

"An even better question, Allen, is why do you care? As you just said, she killed your girlfriend."

Allen looked down at his hands. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Well, I think I _do_ know," said Villanova. "You believe that you can help her. And we think that you are right, Allen. We would like you to join our project on a trial basis. If things work as we anticipate they will, you will have the opportunity to join us indefinitely after you graduate from the Academy."

"W-why me?" he stuttered nervously.

"Well, Claudia took an interest in you. She believes she loves you. Didn't she tell you? As long as you are with us, she will stay willingly. And… we have been watching you with great interest, and it is clear that your potential for scientific greatness is nearly limitless."

"You said she—she took an interest in me. Is that why she killed Pavarti?"

Villanova's smile faded. "That may have been a motivation. However, it is important that you know, Allen, Claudia is simply not able to live among humans in our society."

"Why?"

"Allen, Claudia has no sense of what we consider to be morality. She is a killer, plain and simple. It's who she is, and as I said before, there is no curing her."

The young man frowned. "Is she human?"

"Yes…although not like you and me."

"So, what is she to you, then? A lab subject? She told me that she was afraid to return to the lab."

"Claudia is no lab subject-she is a _participant_ in our project; the focus of it, really."

"But if you are not trying to cure her, then what are you doing? What would I be doing?"

Villanova leaned forward intensely. "You would be helping to perfect a being that is nearly perfect already."

"You say you want to perfect her…but I bet you just want to make her a better killer. You are making her into a weapon…." He stood up and started to head for the door.

Villanova remained seated. "She's already a killer, Allen," the Chancellor called after him. "You know that you want to be part of something special…why not this?"

He turned back around and stared at her. What if he could cure Claudia? What if he could make it so that she no longer felt compelled to kill? Claudia believed she could be cured, so maybe it was possible. He could do it for Parvati. He could at least try and make things right.

Villanova smiled softly. She could tell that the boy was interested. She gestured to the chair he had recently vacated. "Sit down, Allen. I am going to tell you a story about Claudia."

Allen moved to the chair deliberately, and then sat down. Villanova sat back in her chair, still looking at him. "Approximately twelve years ago, a small group of nomadic humans landed their small beat up ship on an unnamed planet. They believed the planet was uninhabited, and planned on staying just a few years before moving on. Put simply, they chose the wrong planet. They were correct that there were no humanoid beings, but it was certainly not uninhabited. Are you familiar with Chameloids, Cadet?"

Allen nodded. "They are a humanoid species which can simulate other living beings…or objects. They can change their molecular structure."

"To a degree, yes. There are many other species capable of far greater shape-shifting abilities. One such race of creatures, resides on the planet I just mentioned. These creatures are similar perhaps to a reptile, perhaps even a predatory dinosaur from our Earth's past. They are extremely intelligent, and extremely dangerous. They have no known predators. They change shape according to their moods, or on a whim. They can re-master their genetic makeup into anything. After the humans landed, it took less than a year for the creatures to completely decimate the population of human settlers. All but two human beings were killed and presumably eaten."

"And Claudia was one of these two remaining humans?"

Villanova nodded. "She and her mother were very clever and they hid and scrambled and stayed alive. Her mother was even able to fashion a makeshift beacon, and the signal was eventually picked up by a passing ship. Claudia was just a toddler during most of this period. In the end, her mother died just before rescue."

"She was killed by the—the creatures?"

"No. Claudia's mother was poisoned by the food they had been subsisting on while hiding in the jungles and caves of the planet. Her digestive system was too accustomed to human food. No, the giant fern-like plants they had been eating for months were toxic to a normal human being, and that is what killed Claudia's mother."

"But the plants didn't kill Claudia…."

"No, Claudia's digestive system was new and all she had known really was the food on that planet. The plants on that world are very curious. The reptilian creatures eat them, as do other smaller animals and insects on that planet. Each species that ingests these plants is able in some way to change shape or color to match their surroundings. None were able to do so as ably as the reptilian creatures—at least none were until Claudia. The food that Claudia ate as a young child caused her genetic makeup to evolve and change in ways we never thought were possible for human beings. We surmise that it was the vegetation on that planet which was in fact the dominant life form, and it is the source of what has made Claudia the formidable person she now is. She continues to evolve even as we speak. But there is more work to be done."

"And you want me to help you complete this…work?"

"Yes. But it requires a commitment from you Cadet Harrow. And it also will require your secrecy. So, what do you say? Will you join us?"

Young Allen took a deep breath. "Yes," he replied.

* * *

 **2340 Starfleet Medical-Recovery Unit**

His eyes itched him terribly. Soon, they had promised him, they would remove the bandages over his eyes. When would he ship out? That was all Picard cared about now. He struggled to keep a reference point and not to lose track of time, while lying still in a hospital bed. While he had been up and around, he'd found serious exercise difficult on account of the fact that he could not see a thing. He had been able to use the treadmill to work out his repaired knee, but that was about it.

Jenice had left a few minutes earlier after a short visit, and as was often the case lately, they had argued. She had apologized for the incident at her apartment, and he had shrugged, and said "We are too different, Jenice. You are a free spirit, just as your father described you. Perhaps you need more than just me, to make you happy. And I am…well I do not think that I am meant to be in a relationship either. But for different reasons."

She had grabbed his hand at that moment. "Don't be silly, Jean-Luc! You mean you aren't meant to be in a relationship with me?"

He had looked up at the ceiling at that moment, out of habit, even though his eyes were covered. "No…not just you…anyone. Look, Jenice it's hard to explain, but I—I just think it would be best if we ended things now." She fell silent. "Before I ship out…." He added, trailing off.

She let go of his hand, and he heard her sigh. "Look, Jean-Luc. I think you are depressed from being cooped up in this hospital for a week. But you are going to get well soon, and you are going to feel better. You may regret what you just said. I think you will change your mind about us."

"Jenice—"

He could tell she was standing up now. "Jean-Luc, I am not going to give up on us. You leave next Saturday as long as you are cleared by Medical. Meet me Friday for lunch. I'll be in Paris at the International Conference for Journalism that day. I know a beautiful café." He swallowed, but said nothing. "Will you meet me, Jean-Luc?"

He breathed in through his nose and forced a smile. "Of course," he said and knew right away it was a lie. He leaned back in the hospital bed and sighed. Hearing footsteps, he tilted his head toward the door. There was a quick knock and then energetic feet entered the room before he could reply.

"Hey there," said a now familiar voice.

He broke into a slow smile. "Cadet Crusher…."

There was the sound of chair legs scraping as Jack fell easily into the chair and then pulled it forward toward the bed. "Do you have trouble remembering my first name or something? It's only one syllable…not that hard, Jean-Luc."

"We have to learn the importance of rank now if we are to be good officers, Jack," Picard scolded him.

"Hmm," said Crusher, sounding unconvinced. "So…how are you feeling? _Sir_ , I mean…."

Picard smiled again. "Well enough. Just bored really. I am scheduled to get these off tomorrow," he said gesturing toward the bandages over his eyes.

"Great," said Jack. "You'll be good as new then."

"Hmm hmm, I suppose…." Picard wondered briefly if they had already exhausted all possible topics of conversation.

"So on the way in here, I saw this girl…woman I mean. A beautiful blonde, whoa! Was that…?"

Picard folded his arms over his chest. "Yes, that was Jenice," he said tensely.

Jack fell silent. "I thought you were crazy before when you were talking about fighting with your girlfriend, but I think I get it now. I think I get you."

"Oh really? You've worked it all out then?" he said sardonically, arms still crossed.

"Yeah. You're focused on something…a goal. And you don't want anything to be in the way. You don't want to be held up…even by a beautiful woman." Picard didn't say anything, so he continued. "Let me guess, you want to make Captain before you reach 30?"

Picard rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Hmm of course…that must be it," it he said sounding bored.

Jack could see his new friend was getting annoyed, so he decided not to press any further. They stopped talking for a while. Finally he said the thing he had wanted to say all along. "Actually, I really wanted to thank you, Jean-Luc."

Picard tried to frown, but the bandages made it very difficult to do so. "For what?"

"For clearing Allen's name. I knew he didn't murder Parvati. They officially cleared him of any wrongdoing almost immediately after they found you up on that scaffold."

Picard felt a chill go through his body, remembering what he had experienced—what he had seen that night. "Don't thank me," he said dully. "Did they release the name of the killer?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," said Jack. "That's the weird part. But I guess you know the truth, don't you?"

He tilted his head toward Jack. "Honestly, Jack…I am not so sure that I do. But what I saw was quite an eye opener. As you can see from…" he pointed to his bandages again and Jack laughed.

"I guess you were pretty messed up then. Lucky the old man found you…."

Picard perked up. "Boothby?"

Jack laughed. "Well…I didn't mean to say he climbed the scaffolding, but yeah he alerted the authorities when he saw some sort of commotion going on up there…and you're not going to tell me what happened are you?"

"Sorry, Jack, I think it would be best if you ask someone else more official than me." He didn't want Jack to know that he had been attacked by a being who had appeared at different points to be Jack's friend Allen Harrow, a teenage girl, and a giant venom spewing lizard. He had now been told that the creature was not Allen Harrow, but honestly, he had seen someone or something that looked exactly like Harrow. It was a difficult image to remove from his mind, no matter what the official line now was.

Jack nodded and stood up, clapping Picard on the back. "Well, thanks again. And I'm glad we met. Maybe I'll see you out there?"

Picard grinned. "Yes I think you will, Jack." He heard Jack shuffle to the door and then halt.

"Jean-Luc, everyone wants to make Captain before 30. What do you _really_ want?"

Oddly, Picard felt tears in his eyes, and was suddenly grateful for the bandages. "I want to be the best there ever was."

Jack nodded and smiled, even though he knew his friend could not see him. And he was glad for that because for some reason, he felt emotional, and could see the same sentiment in Jean-Luc's face. "Goodbye my friend," he said before exiting the room.

* * *

 **2366**

Will Riker pulled his head up with some effort and blinked. He was lying face down on a carpeted surface. That's right, they were on the bridge. They had been facing that research ship the Eve, and then suddenly…suddenly they'd been rocketed somewhere. Somehow they had been propelled through space, presumably by the Eve. But how? Dimly he remembered the computer having announced that life support was going to reach critical levels soon. He pushed himself up off of the deck. "Computer, status of life support systems?" he said slowly, wincing, because his head was throbbing.

 _"_ _Life support systems and environmental controls are normalizing. Power levels returning to optimum,"_ answered the computer.

Riker held the back of his neck, and looked around, seeing Captain Picard getting slowly to his feet. Doctor Crusher appeared to be tangled somewhat with Doctor Harrow, and they were slowly coming to, and pulling away from one another. He glanced over at Captain Picard, who was now busy tapping at the controls on his arm rest.

"Computer, what are our coordinates?" Picard demanded, pulling the winter hat off of his head and tossing it to the floor.

 _"_ _36.29.5, Captain."_

The ensign at the helm turned to look at Picard. "We are out of the Sargasso Sea region, sir," she reported sounding very relieved.

"But those coordinates still have us in the Far Rim, Captain," Riker said, walking over to him.

Picard nodded without looking up. "Shields up," he said curtly.

"Aye sir," said Worf, who had returned to tactical. "Shield strength is at 89 percent and improving, sir."

"Is everyone alright?" Picard called out as he stood up and looked around the bridge. Crew members nodded or answered in the affirmative. Just then, Data and Wesley Crusher walked out of the now functional turbo lift.

"Mom," Wesley said, jogging over to Beverly Crusher who had entangled herself from Allen Harrow and was now standing uncomfortably next to tactical. "You okay?" he asked. She smiled and grabbed him into an embrace.

Picard looked at Beverly and then Allen Harrow. Of course he had seen them lying in some kind of embrace on the deck, when the ship had come out of that sickening spin. There was no need for him to acknowledge it, however. He shouldn't let these kinds of things cloud his judgment. " _Mr. Crusher_ ," he said perhaps a little too sharply. "When you are quite ready, I need you at the helm," he said, turning back around before he could see Beverly give him a deadly look. Wesley nearly ran past him to take his post.

"Captain," reported Data, relieving the officer at ops, "Commander LaForge reports that warp and impulse power have returned and should be at optimum levels within a half hour, sir."

"Very good, Mr. Data."

"Mr. Worf, run a sensor sweep for the Eve," Picard ordered.

Riker pointed suddenly at the view screen. "I don't think that will be necessary, Captain. It's back."

Sure enough the blackness of the view screen was interrupted by the sleek white ship.

"The Eve's shields are powered down, Captain," Data reported.

Picard nodded at Riker. "Number One, prepare a boarding party. Along with any others you choose, please bring Mr. Worf, who will personally accompany Doctor Harrow."

"Aye sir," said Riker.

Harrow shook his head. "I already told you I'm not going over there, Captain Picard."

Beverly stepped forward. "You can't make him do this, Captain. He's afraid for a reason."

Picard folded his arms over his chest. "This isn't a debate, Doctor. Doctor Harrow will return to his ship to assist us with coordinating his crew's return to Star base 14."

"N-No, you c-can't force me to do this against my will!" Harrow began to back up toward the turbo lift.

Picard walked after him. "Lieutenant Worf," he said with a curt nod. Worf stepped between Harrow and the turbo lift. Harrow glanced at Worf and then stopped.

Riker nodded at Data. "Mr. Data, you're with me. And Doctor Crusher," he added.

"No," said Picard, turning and walking back down the ramp. "Pick another medical officer."

"What?" Crusher stepped into his path. "You're sending Allen, but you're refusing to let me go with him? Jean-Luc, I'm the only one at this point who can keep him calm."

Picard's gaze rested on her briefly, and then he looked at Troi. "Counselor, please accompany Doctor Harrow, and make sure he feels as comfortable as possible." He looked back at Beverly with a raised eyebrow and then sat down in his command chair.

"Jean-Luc…."

He looked up sharply, not used to her using his first name in a formal setting, in such a tense situation.

"Captain," she said. "I respectfully request that you allow me to join the away team—"

"Request denied," he snapped.

She was now fuming. "Captain, Doctor Harrow is my friend. And I believe he is in danger. If he must go, I should go with him."

Picard stood up quickly and walked toward her. "Doctor Crusher…we do not make away team assignments on board this ship, based on friendship. Nor do we do so based on our _personal feelings_. Now Doctor Selar is available to join the away team, and she will do so. Understood?"

She backed away slowly. She tapped her communicator. "Doctor Selar, this is Doctor Crusher. Please take a standard med kit and join the away team in transporter room one." She walked toward Harrow and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. With a pointed glance at Picard she left the bridge.

Riker turned with raised eyebrows to regard the Captain, who was staring intensely into the turbo lift. "Uh…Counselor, Data, Worf, and Doctor Harrow, you're with me."

"Keep me apprised of your progress, Commander," Picard called after him. "And at the slightest threat of violence, I want you out of there."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

 **On Board the research vessel** ** _Eve_** **…about one week ago**

The metallic banging sound continued. He covered his ears and shut his eyes tightly, but he still felt the sound reverberate through his body. "Allen! Allen! Come to the door!"

It was Commander Robinson. "Go away," whispered Allen. He could feel his sanity slipping away from him, nearly out of reach now. Robinson continued his banging on the hatch. Was it really Robinson? "Go away," he said in a louder voice.

"Allen!"

Allen Harrow shook his head and closed his eyes tighter. "It's no use!" he shouted back.

"It's time to go, Allen," Robinson demanded. "The shuttle's ready now. We'll have a few days' worth of air and food until we get picked up. Come on Allen…we just need to get to the launch bay."

"It's too late," said Allen. "She knows…she'll stop us," he warned.

Robinson was growing more desperate. "We'll do it together, Allen. Trust me. We can do it together. But you have to open this goddamn door, or we are both dead, do you hear me? Allen!"

Penny had been the first. Sweet Penny. Had he shown her too much affection? Was that what had started everything? He couldn't remember very well anymore.

Suddenly there was a loud sound, louder than the banging of Robinson's fist. Then a strange but familiar hissing sound. He had not heard that sound in years. Why now? Why was this happening? Allen began to sob into his coat which he pulled over his head, trying to drown out the horrible sounds. Robinson shrieked then, and Allen heard what could have been the tearing of flesh through the sealed hatchway. Then there was a repeated thudding against the hatch, another shriek, and the sound of something heavy sliding to the floor. Then there was nothing but silence.

Then came the whispers inside his mind, or maybe all around him. " _Now we can be together, Allen. The way it used to be."_

* * *

Ensign Redd was ecstatic. This would be his first away team mission since transferring to the _Enterprise_ just months earlier. He planned on doing whatever he could to impress not only his immediate superior Lieutenant Worf, but Commander Riker whom he had never personally met. What he wanted was just an opportunity. If he could show that he had what it took, maybe there would be room for advancement or even a lateral move into a command officer track. Security was fine for now, but Ensign Redd was a very ambitious young man.

He nodded at Ensign Doe as he headed into transporter room one. She was already waiting there, of course. He knew they were partners on this mission, but she was also his competition.

She smirked as he approached. "Ready, Johnny? Bet you a drink in Ten Forward we find trouble over there on the mystery ship."

Redd just shrugged nonchalantly. "Trouble? Babysitting some egghead scientist? Not exactly a prime assignment, Doe. Any idiot can do that."

"Oh yeah?" countered Doe. "Then why didn't they just send you, Redd?"

"Shh!" he said, and they both straightened quickly at attention as Commander Data, Commander Riker, Security Chief Worf and a nervous looking man whom they correctly assumed was the egghead scientist, entered the transporter room.

Seeing what he was faced with, Riker groaned inwardly, and shot an irritated glance at worf, as Doctor Selar calmly followed behind them. Why did Worf pick these two to go into potential hostile territory? He'd seen them both around, but it didn't matter what their names were. They were Hothead #1 and Hothead #2 as far as he was concerned. He had seen the guy bragging about the exploits he'd probably never had, and trying mostly unsuccessfully to pick up women in Ten Forward. He knew the type, because he had _been_ that type not too long ago. Well, maybe except for the part about having difficulty picking up women.

And Hothead #2, being just as bad as Hothead #1, had also been bragging about her exploits and no doubt, picking up women in Ten Forward as well. Nevertheless this only meant one thing. Riker would have to give the speech. Oh, how he hated to give the away team speech, reserved only for those occasions when a bad personnel choice had to be faced head on, before it spiraled into a dangerous situation.

"Alright...listen up!" he began. Seeing Doctor Selar fix him with a barely tolerant expression, he eased up a little on the dramatic tone. "We are about to head over to a ship that has recently attacked us, and then even more recently, has helped us out of a bad situation. Put simply, we don't know what to expect." He shot Doctor Harrow a pointed look, to emphasize the fact that if they didn't know what to expect, it was largely due to Harrow's silence on the matter.

"The _last_ thing we need," he continued, "is for anyone here to act out in a way that could jeopardize the safety of him or herself, or the rest of the away team." He looked around, but his gaze rested heavily on the two hotheads. He gestured at Allen Harrow. "The security team is to stay with Doctor Harrow at all times, unless otherwise ordered by Mr. Worf or myself. As always, violence is a last resort unless you are defending yourself or the rest of the team. Understood?"

Everyone indicated that they did understand, and to avoid further delay, Riker gave one last warning look at the two security officers and then stepped up onto the transporter pad. Waiting a few more moments for everyone to assemble, he gave the order to energize.

* * *

Captain Picard sat quietly, anticipating the first update from Commander Riker. It would be interesting to see how the crew of the Eve responded to Harrow's reappearance. Why had Harrow lied to him, telling him his ship had been destroyed? Was he so afraid that he did not want the ship to be discovered? What secrets was Harrow keeping this time? He could not help but anticipate that he would soon have at least some of those answers. He regretted sending Counselor Troi to the ship as a way of placating Doctor Crusher; an attempt that had hardly been successful. But, he knew Troi's abilities might prove helpful at any rate.

He certainly did not regret his refusal to add Crusher to the away team. Both Counselor Troi and Doctor Harrow knew why he had refused. It was because Harrow had informed him that both he and Beverly were at greater "risk" of danger; whatever that had meant. Strange that Harrow, who supposedly cared so much about Beverly hadn't informed her that she was in danger. If he had, he might have convinced her not to charge on board the Eve along with everyone else. Picard was sure that Beverly would have listened to Harrow, if not him.

Her bravery and her stubbornness were traits he admired, but he also feared for her; that he would not be able to protect her. He told himself that these were the normal daily concerns of a starship captain, but he was gradually admitting to himself that the mere thought of her being harmed affected him in ways he could no longer ignore. It was also hard to ignore that both he and Beverly were the only two Enterprise crew members who had a connection to Allen Harrow. And perhaps it was that connection that caused them to be in greater danger than the others.

But he knew that he sure as hell was not going to test out his theory by sending Beverly over to that ship. A ship that had attacked the Enterprise while somehow cloaked…and then had demonstrated incredible power by transporting both itself and the Enterprise nearly two parsecs away. He could only hope that in time, perhaps when this was all over, she would understand why he had made the decision to keep her here. Maybe Harrow returning unharmed would calm her. But he knew that he would have to wait for her to come around. It was unwise, he knew from experience, to try and make her see reason when she was obviously so angry at him.

* * *

With the hull breach repaired on Deck 12, things were getting back to normal in Main Sick Bay. To Doctor Beverly Crusher normalcy involved tending to mostly minor injuries the crew had experienced during their most recent collective near death experience in the Sargasso Sea. She was happy to do so, because it distracted her from her anger toward the Captain, and her fear for what might happen to Allen over in that ship. She tried to focus on treating the injured and hypothermic crew members, instead of thinking of Jean-Luc and his arrogant attitude toward Allen.

Was he jealous? She could only guess, because he would never in a million years admit that he felt anything for her. Of course as Captain he had the authority to make the decision he did. They all depended on him daily to make the right decisions, and rarely did they question him. But he had so much nerve to tell her that away team decisions were not made based on "friendship" or "personal feelings". How did he explain preventing her from going on the mission? How could he tell her to put her feelings aside when he couldn't even do the same?

"You okay, Mom?" She glanced up quickly at the sound of her son's voice.

"Um…yeah." She gestured for him to follow her into her office. "What's up, Wes'?" she asked turning around to face him once they had some privacy. Seeing the uncomfortable look on his face, she sat down at her desk and waited for him to talk.

"That's what I came here to ask you, Mom." He sat down and looked at her with concern. "You say you're alright—"

"I am," she insisted.

"But you don't seem that way," he said. She looked down at her tricorder, which was still open in her hand and shut it absently. "Mom…who's that guy? And why does Captain Picard hate him so much?"

Beverly pursed her lips. "His name is Allen Harrow. He's a brilliant scientist. He is also the man we rescued the other day from that floating shuttle pod. Your father knew him, apparently Captain Picard knows him too, although neither of them will say how…and I was—I was involved with him for a while after Jack died."

"Involved…?"

"Yes…" she looked down at her hands. "But I haven't seen him in many years."

Wesley nodded. "And you still care about him. Is that why you wanted to go over to the Eve with him?"

Beverly shook her head. "No…I mean, I'm not sure how I feel about him now. But I know that he was terribly frightened, and Jean-Luc wanted to force him to go back to that ship anyway. That was why I wanted to go."

Wesley nodded. "That makes sense. But why didn't he let you go over there? Normally he would have sent you."

Beverly tried to keep the anger at bay. "I don't know. I was trying to figure that one out."

Wesley smiled and shook his head. "Mom, why don't you just ask him why?"

"Wesley…it might be hard for you to understand, but I am just so…angry with him right now, that it is probably best if I don't go and see him. He's just going to want to argue with me, and convince me that he was right all along. And I really think I might say something that might get me in trouble."

"Mom, I know it might not be my place to say this, but when you kissed that guy…Mr. Harrow, I saw the Captain's face."

Embarrassed, Beverly put her face in her hands briefly and then looked back up at her son. "And…?"

"And, I know it sounds crazy, but I think you kind of hurt his feelings."

How absurd it sounded that a man who so closely guarded his feelings would allow himself to be hurt by such a small thing. Beverly laughed almost reflexively, but grew quiet seeing that Wesley was serious. She suddenly felt a pang of something deep in her chest, or perhaps an emotion long buried. Suddenly needing comfort herself, she reached out and took Wesley's hand in hers.

* * *

It was a smell he had encountered more than once, and he never forgot it. It was a stale smell, and yet each time, it was a new and horrifying, yet sobering experience. It was the smell of death. And immediately upon beaming over, Will Riker wanted nothing more than to call O'Brien and have him beam them back just as soon as they arrived on the Eve.

He looked at Worf, who had taken out his phaser. The Klingon looked just as somber as Riker felt.

Riker turned as Troi took in a sharp breath. "Deanna?"

"Will…it's—they're all dead."

Riker clenched his jaw and looked at Harrow. "What's going on Doctor? What can we expect to find on this ship?"

Harrow seemed to shrink just a little. "What she said…death."

Data looked perplexed. "I do not understand. Captain Picard was recently speaking with Commander Robinson. Is he not here?"

Troi's normally glowing skin was ashen. "There is someone else here. A presence. But it does not want to be seen. But she is not afraid of us. Not at all. She is waiting…."

" _She_?" Riker looked again at Harrow. "Where's Robinson? Answer Data's question."

"We need to get out of here," Harrow warned. "How many times do I have to tell you people?"

"Tell us? You haven't told us a goddamn thing of substance, Doctor Harrow!" Riker pushed past him. "There are dead bodies on this ship, and I'm here to investigate. We'll leave when _I_ say we're ready."

Troi grabbed his arm. "Will, if we are going to investigate, I don't believe we have much time. Doctor Harrow is correct that we are in great danger."

They all glanced up at a whispering sound that echoed through the ship. "What was that?" asked Worf.

"It's her," said Harrow. He glanced at the security officers flanking him and came to a sudden realization. She was watching them. "Please, you should move further away from me," he said. They didn't budge. Riker was speaking again from further down the corridor. Worf had disappeared around a corner to the left.

* * *

"Over here!" Riker was standing with the back of his hand pressed against his nose and mouth. A wave of nausea passed through him. "It's Commander Robinson…but—but we were just speaking to him."

Doctor Selar moved to his side and ran her tricorder over the body. The man's neck had been broken, and he also had what appeared to be claw marks in his chest. "He has been dead for several days at least," she said impassively.

Riker glanced at Harrow accusingly. "We picked you up several days ago, too Doctor. And you've fed us nothing but lies. Maybe you killed him. You said they went mad…but you're not exactly stable now are you?"

Data came walking back from an adjacent room. "I have confirmed four other deceased members of the crew, Commander. There were only six crew members listed for this vessel, including Doctor Harrow."

Riker moved toward Harrow. "No wonder you wanted to get away. You're now the prime suspect." Riker's eyes narrowed. "Did you murder these people, Harrow?"

Harrow stared back at him. "No," he said almost calmly.

"Then who—" Riker looked down the hall. "Wait a minute…where the hell did Ensign Redd go?"

* * *

 **A few moments earlier…**

"Ensign, in here," Worf commanded, gesturing from down the corridor. Eager to please, Redd took off at a quick pace, until he came to a dark room. The sound of dripping moisture made a strange shiver go through him as he entered.

Worf turned and looked at him, breaking into an uncharacteristic grin. "You left Allen alone," said Worf.

"I'm sorry, sir. But Commander Riker said if one of you ordered me to—" Ensign Redd's words were cut short, when Worf shot out his hand and grabbed Redd by the throat. Even as his world was turning grey from lack of oxygen, he felt Worf's fingers become claws, which sunk into his neck. Worf's arm, which had been clad in gold uniform had grown immense, and turned a scaly green shade. There was a hissing sound and Redd felt something like burning foam hit him in the eyes. He screamed. Just as he heard the footsteps of his fellow crew members, he felt the snap of his own neck.

Commander Riker and Doctor Selar were the first to arrive to find the ensign's body. Riker looked down at the so recently vibrant young man. "Damn," he whispered. "I told him to stay with us."

Selar knelt down and closed her tricorder almost immediately and looked up at him. "Commander…I am sorry. Ensign Redd is dead."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

Captain Picard moved toward the helm and put a hand absently on the back of Wesley's chair. Riker had not checked in, and the difficulty seemed to be interference with the communication channels. If those channels were disrupted, he had guessed that it would also likely make transporting away from the Eve difficult. His fears were confirmed when they tried to lock on to the away team only to be met with imperfect transport signatures. There was great risk in transporting blindly, and he wasn't quite ready to assume the worst had happened and try a risky transport that could kill members of the team.

He had tried to hail Commander Robinson two more times with no results. Part of him wanted to beam over just to find out what the hell was going on, but he knew a beam-in now could be just as risky. Most importantly, he knew that whatever was happening would be handled well by Commander Riker.

As his thoughts drifted elsewhere, he tapped his fingertips lightly on the back of Wesley's chair. "Mr. Crusher…" he began, and then trailed off.

Wesley glanced up. "Yes sir?"

Picard removed his hand from the chair and clasped both hands in front of him stiffly. "On your last break…did you happen to see Doctor Crusher?"

Wesley gulped. _Oh no,_ he thought. "Um, yes sir."

Picard took a breath. "I…regret the unnecessarily harsh tone I used earlier with her, and with you as well, Ensign. I would like to apologize to you, Wesley."

"Oh, you don't have to do that, sir," Wesley said quickly. "I was taking way too long to get to my post, sir."

"No, Ensign, you were not. You were greeting your mother after the ship and crew just experienced a traumatic event. The helm was already manned and could have waited a few more moments for your arrival. In any case, I hope you will accept my apology."

Wesley looked up at the Captain, trying to convey his gratitude at the unusual gesture. "Yes, of course sir, thank you."

Picard nodded, appearing very relieved. Wesley expected the Captain to walk away, but realized that Picard continued to stand there. _Oh boy, here it comes,_ thought Wesley.

"When you saw your mother, I don't suppose that she mentioned the incident at all? Of course, it is entirely optional for you to tell me. I am not trying to pry of course," he added.

Wesley rested his hands on the helm carefully, suddenly aware that if he hit a control in error, the Captain would be the first to witness his mistake. "Um…she _sort_ of mentioned it, Captain. But…knowing my Mom, I bet she's put it all behind her by now sir. You know…she's probably forgotten about the whole thing."

Picard frowned and nodded, as if he actually believed that was possible. "If I were to…venture to offer Doctor Crusher an apology for the regrettable way in which I interacted with her earlier, do you think that she might be as receptive to an apology as you were?"

Wesley felt he was in a no-win scenario. "Uh…yes sir, I think that she might be. Of course, I can't speak for her, sir."

"Oh no, of course not," Picard agreed. He patted the top of Wesley's chair. "Thank you, Ensign. I appreciate your candor."

Wesley shut his eyes and relaxed a little bit as Picard finally walked away. Rodriguez, the officer at ops was facing forward, but Wesley saw that the man was grinning like a total jerk. "Whatever," Wesley murmured, and turned his attention back to his post.

* * *

"Riker to Chief O'Brien, lock onto the away team and get us out of here, Miles. Ensign Redd is a…casualty. Make sure you lock onto his comm badge and beam him to the morgue."

"Aye sir, as soon as this interference goes away, Commander. I'm not able to get a positive lock on any one of you," O'Brien responded, and the interference he was talking about was evident on the channel. "Commander, if you can get to one of the areas on the ship where the hull is thinner, I might be able to get a more positive lock. For some reason there is quite a bit of variation in hull density throughout the ship, sir."

Riker nodded grimly. "Can you point us in the right direction, O'Brien?"

"About 50 meters in front of you, Commander. If you can get to that juncture, I'll try the transport again."

"Good," said Riker, just happy to have a goal in mind. "We'll let you know when we're in position." Riker looked over at Allen Harrow, who was glancing around him furtively. "Well, Doctor, we've got one man down. Are you going to tell us what's going on? Who did this?"

"The same one who killed the rest of the crew. And she won't stop, Riker, until she's killed us as well."

"What kind of being kills this quickly and then disappears, Harrow?"

"Put simply, she is a creature with the ability to take any shape. Until she took Robinson's shape while we were on the _Enterprise_ , I had only seen her take the shape of beings that were alive, in addition to inanimate objects. But she apparently is now able to simulate the appearance of someone who has already died. She also has the ability to kill very efficiently. And she has a special affinity for me. The closer you are in physical proximity to me, the greater danger you are in. There is no use in explaining. We have to keep going so your transporter chief can beam us back."

"She is a very formidable beast," said Worf, and to Troi he sounded more than a little admiring of their invisible adversary.

"Doctor Harrow is right, Commander," said Troi. "She wants to kill everyone here, except for Doctor Harrow."

"Data," said Riker. "Please pick up Ensign Redd and we'll carry him with us." Data nodded and stooped down to pick up the Ensign's body.

Ensign Doe brought up the rear, walking backwards and keeping her phaser at the ready. Worf gestured for her to back up. "Move away from Doctor Harrow, Ensign. You heard the Counselor; Doctor Harrow is the only one of us not at risk. He does not need your protection and in fact being closer to him could put us all at-risk."

"Everyone should keep toward the center of the corridor," said Harrow. "She travels easily through the walls."

Riker raised an eyebrow at Harrow and then nodded to Data who was waving his tricorder over the walls. Riker could see now that there were black marks on the walls. "Weapons fire?"

Data nodded. "Yes, Commander. The readings show that disruptors were discharged here within last two days."

* * *

 **2355 Earth**

They stopped on the steps just outside her door. The cool San Francisco breeze was so pleasant, just as the whole experience had been that evening. Beverly and Allen had been spending more time together lately, and she was enjoying it. Gone was at least some of the guilt about Jack. In truth, she knew she was submerging that guilt beneath layers of other emotions, but she had stopped beating herself up for being attracted to someone other than Jack.

At the time he had died, she and Jack had been going through a difficult period. They still loved each other, but things were very strained between them. It was largely because they had Wesley who they both cherished, that at the time of Jack's death, neither of them had planned on giving up on the marriage. And now, more than a year later, she had no intention of trying to replace Jack, or what she and Jack had had, even when they had been at their best. She knew now that she wanted to raise Wesley on her own.

She didn't consider her relationship with Allen to be serious, and in fact she did not want a serious relationship, but it did make her feel good. They kissed for a few moments, and she wondered about inviting him in for the night. It was then that she heard a soft cracking noise come from the bushes around the side of the house.

"What was that?" she asked, pulling away from him slightly.

Allen seemed to have heard it too, because he glanced toward the bushes. He frowned and a troubled look passed over his face. "Most likely just the wind," he said.

He was probably right. She smiled and hugged him. "I had a wonderful time," she said softly.

Allen nodded and pulled her closer. "Me too. Thank you," he said.

She kissed him again. "What are you thanking me for?" she asked, when she pulled away.

He took a deep breath. "For introducing me to dramatic theater…."

She laughed. He seemed entirely serious though. "Really Beverly," Allen said. "Thank you for everything…I just love to spend time with you. I've been so caught up in my work, for years…and now I finally see what I have been missing," he said gazing at her affectionately.

As usual, she was amused and touched by his awkward charm. But part of her worried that he might soon want a more serious relationship. In fact the very idea made her a little squeamish. It was for that reason that she had decided to call it a night without inviting him in. She rubbed her hands down his arms and stepped backward.

"Allen, I really enjoy being with you too. But I've got to make sure Wesley's alright tonight. He's been having those nightmares again." It was a lie, because in fact Wesley had just gotten over the horrible nightmares he began to experience after Jack's death. She told herself it was a harmless statement to make. But why lie at all? She laughed nervously and turned to unlock the door. She turned back to him. "I'll see you soon?"

He took her hand and squeezed it. She could tell that he was disappointed, but her own fear of commitment had ruined the moment for her. "Of course," he said. "Good night. Tell Wesley I said hi."

* * *

She smiled, and watched him disappear down the walkway, and then walked in to her apartment. Marva, her Bolian neighbor who had agreed to babysit Wesley, waved at her as she got up from the living room couch. "Hi Bev. Have fun?"

Beverly nodded and smiled slightly. "Thanks again for watching him, Marva. How was he tonight?"

Marva moved out of the way and gestured at the living room carpet. "Busy…" she said, laughing. A complex structure made out of tiny building blocks spanned nearly the entire carpet. "When I asked Wes what it was, he told me it was 'Mommy's office'."

Beverly knelt down to examine her son's work. Remarkably, but not surprisingly, knowing her son, it was quite an accurate representation of the Starfleet Medical facility.

"He's incredible," Marva said, putting her jacket on and heading for the door.

"I know," Beverly said proudly. "I owe you a favor, Marva. Thanks again," she called out, as Marva ducked out through the door with a final goodbye.

Beverly checked briefly in on Wesley before heading for her personal office. "Lights," she said, as she stepped inside.

 _"_ _Hello Beverly,"_ said the office computer. _"You have two messages."_

She glanced down as one of the small computer terminals blinked on. Still staring at the screen, she sunk down into her chair tiredly, but with a growing feeling of excitement. The first message was from Walker Keel. The second was from Jean-Luc. She hadn't heard from him in months, and her time with Allen had helped her forget some of her earlier pain caused by his silence.

Shaking slightly, she ordered water from the wall replicator and sat back down. Why was her heart beating so fast? It was just a recorded message after all. She decided she would listen to them in order; hopefully hearing Walker's voice and seeing his face would calm her nerves enough to listen to whatever it was Jean-Luc had to say. When he did contact her it was very business-like, very perfunctory. She was getting herself worked up for nothing.

She thought she heard something in the hallway, and so she walked out and back down the hall to check on Wesley again. He was fine. She needed to calm down and stop worrying over nothing.

Sighing, she sat back down in front of the computer. "Computer, please play the message from Walker Keel."

Walker's face came up on the screen, and she immediately smiled. But he didn't look his jovial self—at all. "Bev, it's me…look I wish I had caught you in person and didn't have to leave a message. Something horrible happened a few days ago. The Stargazer was lost…."

Beverly stood up too quickly and the half-empty glass of water slipped from her hand and bounced off the carpet unbroken.

"But Jean-Luc's alright—physically at least," continued Walker. She put an unsteady hand over her heart and exhaled. "He was injured, but he's safe and on his way to Earth in about a week to face a court martial. It was a surprise attack, and many of his crew was killed. But many escaped as well. I know this is alarming. I just wanted you to hear it from someone who cares about you." He looked down. "The other thing is…Jean-Luc just called me and he insisted on calling you. I couldn't talk him out of it. He's been drinking…a lot, which is unusual for him, and…well I just wanted to protect you, Bev. I know he's been out of touch with you and I don't know what he's going to say. He kept saying he needed to 'finally' tell you. He's really hurting right now. Just whatever he says…I implore you, _please_ do not take it to heart. I'll be on Earth in a few days, and then maybe we can connect? Call me if you need anything. See you soon, old friend."

As the screen went black and she leaned back in the chair, covering her face with her hands and wiping tears away. Taking a deep breath, she told the computer, "Please play the message from Captain Picard."

Her eyes widened. She wasn't sure what she had expected him to look like, but it wasn't this. There were healing abrasions on his face and he was shirtless except for a bandage around his midsection and ribs. He slumped over as he adjusted the computer screen with an outstretched arm. His sadness radiated through the screen, and he was clearly intoxicated. She wiped another tear from her eye.

"I lost my ship," he began, and his voice was uncharacteristically dull. "Saying it is lost sounds like a temporary situation, as though I will find it again, but it's all gone now. I should have been quicker, smarter, but I wasn't. More people died under my command, Beverly. This was not what I imagined all those years ago when I looked up at the stars and wanted to be a starship captain…."

Beverly wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stared at the screen.

"Beverly…I know I have been out of touch. But I just had to say…that I am so sorry for everything. I know you must hate me for what I allowed to happen to Jack." He slapped his hands on his knees and looked up. "And you are very right to do so, because I could have prevented his death. He was under my command after all. If I had _just_ made the correct decision…it never would have happened. That is why I have stayed away—why I have neglected to write to you." He sighed and reached out to pick up a glass. He gulped down the last of the brown liquid in the glass and then put it down clumsily.

"But there's something else…in here," he slapped his chest. "It hurts very badly, because, because I think about you all of the time. And in all kinds of ways that I know I should not. I thought that after Jack died, these feelings would go away, because all I could feel was the guilt of it." He hung his head briefly and leaned one elbow on his knee, and then winced, sitting up again.

"But it never went away. Walker is the only one who really knows." He smiled sadly. "Oh yes, he knows all about me and my failings. He told me not to call you, not to say what I feel. And he's right isn't he? No, I won't say any more, Beverly. It's really not fair to you. And I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have. Goodbye Beverly." She saw him reach out and tap a control and the screen blinked out.

She stood up slowly, not knowing what to think. Part of her wanted to watch the message over and over, just to see him again, even though she knew it was a foolish idea. As it was, she knew she would not be able to fall asleep after viewing that.

* * *

Beverly did lay awake, for hours it seemed. Her insomnia turned out to be a good thing however. Around 2 am, she heard Wesley shouting. She sat up immediately. It was his nightmares again. They had started after Jack died, but recently he had worked through them. Or so she had thought. She wrapped her robe around her, and then something made her stop. She stooped down and fumbled around inside the nightstand, and pulled it out. She held it at her side as she walked down the hall to Wesley's room, and then put it in her pocket.

"Mommy, it's here! In my room!"

"What is? What's here, Wesley?" she walked in and turned on the light. The young boy, only just six, was standing on his bed pointing at the window. The window was ajar, as it had been left, but was open wider than it had been earlier that evening.

"Wesley, I am going to check the closet and under the bed, just to make sure there is nothing here." She did so, finding nothing and then walked back to the bed and sat down, putting her arm around her son. He sank his forehead against her shoulder. "Why do you think something's here?"

"I saw its eyes…they were bright green. It hissed at me. Then I yelled for you, and it went out."

Beverly stood up, trying not to convey how alarmed she suddenly was. "Out the window?"

"Uh huh," confirmed the boy.

Beverly walked to the window, and pushed it up further. She took the phaser out of the pocket of her robe, and thrust her head and shoulders out of the window. She powered the phaser up. "Listen anyone who is out in my yard right now," she shouted. "I am a Starfleet Officer. You should be able to hear and see this is a working phaser. If you come near my son again, I _will_ shoot you. And the stun setting doesn't even work on this one." She pulled her head in and slammed the window shut, locking it.

"Computer, put up a security field around the perimeter of my apartment. And retinal identification is now required for anyone attempting to come in through the front door."

"Acknowledged, Beverly. Crusher Security One is now in place."

Beverly looked down at Wesley with a smile. "Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight."

* * *

 **2366** **On board the Orion Pirate Ship** ** _Galaxia_**

Captain Bardi had almost completely lost useful vision in his left eye. The venom secreted into his eye just two days earlier had done its job, painfully and efficiently. He sat slumped at the helm, directing his disabled ship with his disabled body. His chest had a huge gash, which he had attempted to cauterize with a setting on his disruptor. Shooting oneself with a disruptor was never wise, but doing so while partially blind was always nearly fatal. Lucky for Bardi, he had incredibly good aim, and had only caused minimal damage to himself while closing the agonizing wound. Everyone else in the boarding party was now dead. The thing had been a clever and brutal killer, like none he had encountered previously.

It had been a poor choice, boarding that ship. But it was a good looking ship, and as with all ships it had the potential to hide any number of riches, or none at all. Even a ship that lacked goods to sell could be stripped of its technology or simply traded as is.

But as soon as he and his small crew had boarded the sleek looking little ship they had realized that the ship's crew was dead. For pirates, this was usually a good sign, for it meant little or no resistance should be expected. But unfortunately, that had not been the case. Bardi's crew had been wiped out one by one by something resembling a ferocious lizard. Captain Bardi had escaped with serious injuries.

But Bardi was unconcerned with these things. The only thing Bardi thought about now was finding that ship and exacting his revenge. A beep on the scanner indicated the ship was now in range. Too bad, his weapons had been severely damaged when the creature had directed its ship to fire on the Galaxia. He would not be able to destroy it easily. And his aim would be poor due to his blinded eye, so ramming the ship with the Galaxia was not likely to work.

Another beep sounded and he checked the scanner. But look here, there was another ship. He smiled and then began to laugh crazily. All Bardi had to do was board the other ship and turn its weapons against the lizard creature's vessel—and then Bardi would have his revenge.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Riker was getting lightheaded between the intense heat and the stomach-churning smell of the strange ship. He led his group toward the juncture identified by O'Brien as quickly as possible. There was no sign of Ensign Redd's murderer. But about halfway to the transport site they found something else: more bodies.

Doctor Selar knelt down amongst four large green-skinned bodies. "Four male Orions…dead about two days."

"Cause of death?" Riker walked forward and looked down at the dead pirates. One was headless. _No mystery about how he died,_ thought Riker.

"Three were slashed to death with some kind of sharp weapon or…possibly claws of some kind…" she glanced up at Riker with a raised eyebrow. "Obviously, the fourth Orion was decapitated."

Riker looked at Harrow, who could barely raise his eyes to look at the gruesome scene. "It was her," he whispered.

Riker's face twisted with anger, and he advanced on Harrow, grabbing his arm and shaking him. "Harrow, this isn't a game! Who is she? What does she want?" A low hiss could suddenly be heard all around them as the air grew still.

Harrow's jaw quivered. "She's my _burden_!" he shouted. "It's my fault that she is this way…and she wants me to stay with her—to love her. Until she has me, she will continue killing."

Troi looked at Riker. "Will, he is telling the truth. She is so very sad and wants only to be with Allen. But she knows almost nothing but how to kill."

"I say we hand him over to her then," said Worf. "She has already killed one of our people, and four Orion warriors...in addition to Doctor Harrow's crew." He glared at Doctor Harrow as though he held Harrow responsible for all of this.

Riker turned back to Harrow who did indeed look very guilty. "What would she do to you?"

Harrow sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Keep me prisoner here on this ship until I try to escape. Then she will kill me."

"She did not kill you before," Worf observed darkly.

"Lieutenant Worf, to abandon Doctor Harrow here to encounter probable death would be inhumane," said Data.

"Maybe so…but _I_ am not human," replied Worf, stalking past him. Data stared after him in confusion.

"Alright everyone, enough conversation. We'll continue on to the transport point as planned," said Riker. "Let's go."

* * *

Picard sat in his ready room hunched over his computer. He was tense from waiting for Riker and his team to report in, and more importantly to beam back safely. He had just learned from Chief O'Brien that young security officer Ensign Redd had been killed while on the _Eve_. Riker had only described Redd as a casualty to O'Brien and had asked him to beam the body to the morgue. Since the interference had prevented any further communication since then, Picard had no idea how Redd had been killed.

So, because he felt rather helpless, he had decided to try and do some further research about the so-called Eve project. It actually helped that there were very few references to the project at all, because there was less to find. He didn't expect to find much. But after just a few minutes of searching, he had come upon a rather disturbing discovery, when simply searching under the term "Eve Project".

He had come upon a news article date 2361; just five years old entitled "Prominent Politician Dies Suddenly". He went on to read that Carmen Villanova, former Academy Chancellor, socialite and political heavyweight had died under mysterious circumstances, and was found in a hallway at Starfleet Medical by cleaning staff. The cause of death was thought to be an "insect bite".

The article went on to say that the former Chancellor had most recently headed up the secretive Eve project, which some suspected was related to weapons development, and that _her son_ Commander Adam Collins would be her successor at the Project. And so it seemed that Commander Adam Collins, was now the same Admiral Collins who had ordered the _Enterprise_ to bring the Eve and its crew back to Star base 14. "My goodness. It seems that when one's _mother_ is in charge of nearly everything, you advance quite quickly up the chain of command," murmured Picard.

Picard was due to report to Admiral Collins very soon as to his progress in locating the research ship. He now decided that he would wait until Riker was back aboard. The connection between Villanova, Harrow and a secret military project made him extremely uneasy. And Villanova dying of an insect bite? Whoever heard of such a thing happening in recent history?

Villanova's suspicious death made him face something he had kept only in the back of his mind since Harrow had come on board. He had always suspected that Harrow was somehow more aware of the circumstances of his girlfriend's murder all those years ago. And then following his own injury at the hands of a dangerous shape-shifting creature, Villanova had almost casually told him that the real killer was the creature he had faced.

Then-Chancellor Villanova had seemed more than excited that Picard had nearly been killed trying to stop the creature, describing him as having done her a great service, implying that the creature was still alive and in her possession. In fact, she had referred to "us", as though she was not the only one to have gained from the creature's capture. Had she meant the Eve Project, or it's precursor? Was the creature the Eve project? Suppose that this creature was somehow still in existence and now terrorizing Doctor Harrow?

He thought about Commander Robinson's odd smile, and the fact that Harrow seemed genuinely surprised to see him. Had that been the creature and not Robinson that he had spoken to on the view screen? If so, it explained not only at least some of Harrow's fear, but also why the creature disguised as Robinson had been so interested in Harrow's welfare.

He sat back in his chair and tried to think back to that night. The creature had twice appeared as a teenage girl and had declared Allen Harrow's innocence and had even pleaded with Picard to leave Harrow alone. The creature had also told him it did not want to live. He imagined it had been suffering then. Now twenty-six years later, it was still perhaps a lab animal, still suffering. And had it continued to kill? How could Harrow have come to be involved in such a project?

He considered that Beverly had been in a relationship with Harrow, and tried to think about it objectively as though he…he frowned and stood up. Why _couldn't_ he think about it objectively, as though he were a friend who simply had no interest in knowing about her love life? He shook away the uncomfortable question, not interested in answering it at the moment.

Picard pushed his chair back and stood up walking to the view port. Perhaps he should go and talk to Beverly about Harrow and find out what she knew, if anything, about his research work. As he gazed out of the view port, he reminded himself that he had planned on apologizing to her anyway. He told himself that once the away team had safely returned, he would go and make amends with Beverly. He would tell her that his motivation for keeping her from the away team was his concern for her safety. And if the timing seemed right, he might say more.

As Picard exited onto the bridge, Lieutenant Volkov, the tactical officer turned her head quickly to acknowledge him and then turned back to her post. "Captain we have an incoming Orion frigate closing at full impulse, sir. It appears to be on a collision course with the _Eve_ , sir."

* * *

"Red Alert," said Picard stepping down. "Hail the incoming ship."

"No response, sir."

"Lay in a course to intercept, full impulse," snapped Picard.

"Course laid in," said Wesley Crusher from the conn. "To intercept in seven seconds."

"Captain, the Orion ship is firing on the Eve…minimal damage, sir."

Picard raised his hand. "Fire phasers."

"Firing, sir. Direct hit," said Volkov. "But the Orion ship has not altered its course, Captain. It's still headed for the _Eve_."

* * *

On board the _Eve_ , the walls shook and seemed to groan around them. "We're being fired on," Riker said, looking up at the ceiling, just as they reached the juncture O'Brien had identified as the transport site.

Another blast shook them, and they all staggered. Harrow stumbled and fell clumsily into the wall. _"Allen…"_ an almost seductive voice floated from the wall, and the arms of a human female immediately extended from the wall wrapping around Doctor Harrow. _"You came back to me,"_ the voice said. Allen screamed and struggled to get away, but the arms would not let him go.

Before anyone could stop her, Ensign Doe leapt for Harrow and grasped the arms holding onto the scientist. As her hands closed around one of the arms, they changed to the color of steel, and razor sharp spikes jutted from the arms, pushing all the way through each of Doe's hands.

" _Stay away from Allen,"_ the eerie voice said. Doe screamed as Data rushed in and pulled her away to safety. He grasped the young Ensign's hands, to apply pressure. The spiked arms returned to resemble those of a human being, and continued to hold Harrow tightly.

Selar quickly applied a bandage and clotting agent to the Ensign's punctured hands. "We must return to the Enterprise as soon as possible to obtain adequate medical care for this officer," she asserted.

"Riker to O'Brien! We're at the coordinates you sent us to…get us out of here."

The reply was mostly static. "…Commander… _Eve_ is und..attack…can't…signatures for transport."

* * *

Beverly decided to go up to the bridge. She wasn't quite sure why she felt compelled to do so, but coming to some kind of understanding with Jean-Luc seemed like a good idea. Hopefully the away team would be returning soon, and they would be all be safe. As she stepped into the turbo lift, she wondered if Riker had been able to talk Commander Robinson into returning with the _Enterprise_ to Star Base 14. Something about Robinson certainly seemed strange, and Allen's fear of returning to the Eve seemed real enough. She knew that she like everyone else would need to wait for the team to return.

She considered what she might say to Jean-Luc, and hoped that he would be honest with her about why he had refused to assign her to the away team. She wanted more than anything to have a conversation where they could both be honest about their feelings. And if they had no feelings for one another, well they could be honest about that as well.

As the red alert signal began to flash inside the turbo lift, she realized that her timing had been horrible. They were once again in crisis mode.

* * *

Captain Bardi of the one-time pirate ship _Galaxia_ grinned as his ship barreled in toward the ship containing the bodies of his former crew, and the creature that had taken their lives so easily, so violently. Yes, his revenge was at hand. The nearby starship—a glorious looking Starfleeter ship- had its shields down, confirming it was allied with the creature's ship. And now the starship was firing on him, trying to stop him. All the more reason the starship's crew should die along with the creature.

He still planned on transporting to the bigger ship—and what a prize it would be. He knew the Starfleet humans might kill him, but as long as he could turn its weapons on the creature's ship, his goal would be attained.

He quickly set his transporter's coordinates. Yes, he would need to arrive on the bridge to co-opt the helm and weapons controls. And, he thought with a widening grin, the Starfleet Captain would be there as well. About twenty seconds before collision, he cut the engines, to disturb the rhythm of the firing starship. He set the timing on the transporter control. Then he got up, with his disruptor in hand, and started running.

* * *

Captain Picard was shouting orders to the helm and tactical, when Beverly Crusher stepped onto the bridge. He saw her out of the corner of his eye, did a double-take and then turned and locked eyes with her briefly. What was she doing here? Her expression seemed somewhat apologetic, as if she hadn't known the ship was under red alert before she had begun the trip up the lift. Perhaps that was what had happened.

It seemed as though she was walking in slow motion, and strangely, he felt it difficult to tear his gaze away from hers. He watched her as she moved and sat down in the seat next to the Captain's chair. She smiled at him, and wrapped her lab coat around her in that way she had; then as if a switch was flipped, time seemed normal again and everything was moving quickly around him again.

"Captain, the Orion ship is going to collide with the _Eve_ in ten seconds," said Rodriguez from ops.

"Fire another phaser blast toward it's port engine and let's see if we can knock it off course a bit," he said, walking up between the conn and ops.

"Firing, Captain," reported Lieutenant Volkov from tactical. "We've struck it, sir. It's spinning…sir it's colliding with the Eve, but no longer head on, sir."

They collectively watched as the Orion ship bounced off of the _Eve_ , and spin away, exploding finally into thousands of tiny pieces.

"Captain," came O'Brien's voice. "I have a positive lock on the away team. The hit to the _Eve_ must have dropped any resistance –"

" _Energize_ , Chief, just get them out of there," shouted Picard. "Transport them to main sick bay."

Crusher stood up almost instinctively as if to move to the turbo lift when she heard the words sick bay, but that was when it happened.

Picard was still facing the view screen, when a six and a half foot green figure appeared on the bridge—already in mid-run. "Sir, look out!" shouted Volkov from tactical, and she pulled out her phaser. She was too late, as the Orion fired, hitting her in the shoulder. He jumped behind the tactical station, quickly studying the controls.

"Which one is the Captain?" His eyes fell on Picard.

"I am!" yelled Picard, striding slowly up the ramp toward the invading Orion. His eyes fell on Lt. Volkov and her dropped phaser. "Let us help our wounded crewman, and then we can talk terms," he said. He looked up at the Orion pirate, who's left eye was milky white and there were burns around both eyes. A gruesome wound covered his chest. Picard went cold, knowing instantly that this man had recently fought the creature he had faced all those years ago.

The Orion laughed and holstered his disruptor, stomping his giant foot on Volkov's phaser. "I don't give a _drakt_ about your crewman. I'm going to destroy that ship over there. And since my ship was no good I decided to take yours, Starfleeter. What do you have to say about that?"

"No," said Picard, and grabbed for the pirate's gun. The Orion caught Picard's hand and pulled his arm up into an excruciating joint lock, laughing again as he did so. The Orion pulled out his gun, and brought the handle down on Picard's outstretched elbow. Picard cried out and kicked the Orion hard in the side of his knee, hearing it crack.

The Orion staggered, and smashed Picard in the side of the face with his disruptor as he fell to the floor. Picard kicked the Orion in the side of his face with the working eye, and as the Orion clutched blindly at his face in agony, Picard jumped on him and kept his elbow on the Orion's windpipe pressing all of his weight down desperately. The pirate reached up with a large meaty hand and slapped ineffectively at Picard's face. Then he made a loud groaning noise and passed out.

Picard stood up, completely winded, and leaned against the tactical station. He wiped blood from his nose. Moving his tongue around his mouth he could feel that several teeth on the left side were loose and he could feel his jaw swelling. He looked up to see Lieutenant Rodriguez, the ops officer, holding a phaser in his shaking hand, pointing it down at the Orion.

Picard fought to catch his breath, and straightened. "It's alright, Lieutenant. Where did you get the spare phaser?" he asked frowning.

"Under the ops station, sir."

Picard grunted. "Based on what just happened, I would say we need to keep more of those around."

"Should I have shot him, sir?" Rodriguez looked somewhat guilty. Wesley Crusher stood behind him looking worried.

Picard shrugged and looked down at the unconscious Orion. He certainly did not want this brute to wake up. "Call a security team and have the intruder brought to the brig. Everyone else, please return to your posts. We are still under red alert." He nodded with a reassuring smile at Wesley, who was still staring at him eyes wide with shock.

He looked down to see Doctor Crusher was kneeling over the fallen Lieutenant Volkov, who was unconscious as well. "The shot went clean through her shoulder. She'll survive, but needs urgent care." She stood up. "Captain I would order you to come as well, but I…have a feeling you will refuse."

He nodded. "We're still under red alert. But Ensign Redd was killed over on the _Eve_ and is now in the morgue. I have to come down and pay my respects in a few minutes. I will see you then, Doctor."

Crusher nodded and put her hands in her pockets, looking down at her boots. "Crusher to sickbay. Two to beam to the emergency room."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

 **2355**

Beverly awoke to a beeping sound coming from down the hall. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and gently pushed away Allen's arm which was draped over her. She hadn't asked him to stay the whole night, and was a little reticent of Wesley seeing him. But things were now very physical between them, and she wasn't about to get a babysitter every night just so she could go to Allen's grimy little apartment. Wesley would have to get to know Allen a little bit at least. He was so smart that there was no keeping anything from him, and for better or for worse, this was her reality. She had made the choice to become involved with Allen, and she hoped that she would not regret it.

She got out of bed, pulling on her robe, and not being too quiet, as Allen needed to get up for work as well. She couldn't help but notice though that he didn't seem to be as busy with work lately. She wondered what was going on, but since the subject of his work was so secretive, she didn't ask. She didn't want to have to face what she assumed would be an evasive answer. She didn't like dishonesty in a relationship, whether the relationship was supposed to be serious or not.

Following the beeping noise, she walked down the hall to her office, and stepped inside. The beeping stopped. _"Good morning, Beverly. You have three missed calls and one message from Captain Walker Keel."_ She glanced at the call signature and saw that all of the missed calls were from Walker at well. _"What now?"_ she thought. It had been just a week ago that she had received a call from Walker and Jean-Luc. The message from Jean-Luc had been confusing, and threatened to change the way she had thought about her relationship with him from its start when they had met years before through Jack. But she had quickly chalked it up to him being drunk, and she again buried the painful feelings that had surfaced about Jean-Luc following Jack's death. She thought it unlikely that she would hear from him again anytime soon. But those thoughts and feelings came back in a rush now.

"Play the message please," she said to the computer.

 _"_ _Hi Bev. I hope you are doing well and weren't too upset by my call last week…or Jean-Luc's. God knows what he said to you…really I've never seen him so out of it. He seems much more like himself now, although he keeps talking about taking an extended leave from Starfleet, which is certainly not normal for him. But look, I just wanted to let you know that we're both in town for the next few days. Jean-Luc will be testifying this afternoon in the final hearing of the court martial. It's scheduled to start at three-thirty. If you want, you and I can get dinner later. Love you Bev."_

* * *

She bit her bottom lip and stared off into the office absently. She felt like she had been frozen in place. He was in town. She had known he would be in town, so why hadn't she even thought about it until now; prepared herself for it? She contemplated whether she should leave work early to see him after the trial. She certainly did not want to be there when he testified. Much too stressful a scene.

When she finally came out of her daze and turned around, Allen was there. He'd dressed so quickly that she wondered for a moment if he had actually been asleep when she left the room just a few minutes before.

He tucked in his shirt and smiled at her. She smiled back, though she felt like her insides were turning over and over. "When do you get off work today?"

She hesitated and then made the decision she had been mulling over for the last several minutes. She tightened the belt of her bathrobe. "Oh…I was supposed to be on duty until 1800 hours—6pm," she corrected herself, remembering he was one of the few people she knew who didn't constantly use military time. "But I think I might see if I can get off duty early today…."

Allen's face lit up happily. "Oh, that's great. What time?"

"Oh about 3pm…but I've actually got some business to take care of," she said, hoping that would make him uninterested in going along.

Allen was undeterred. "Oh you have to run some errands? I'll come with you and then we can maybe have an early dinner—"

"No," she said a little too quickly. "Look, I have to take care of some business. I really need to do this on my own."

Allen smiled and looked embarrassed. "Okay, sorry I didn't mean to impose. If you've got something important to take care of, the last thing you need is me tagging along."

"Allen, it's not that…it's just—"

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "It's no problem, I understand. Didn't mean to freak you out. I'm not the possessive type, you know," he added.

She laughed. "I know."

He started to leave and then turned to look at her from the open door as he let the morning light in. "It's not like you're going on a date or anything," he added with a smile, but there was something uncertain in his gaze.

Beverly stared at him, and then laughed nervously. "Right," she said.

* * *

 **2366 Enterprise**

 **"** Why did you invade my ship?" Picard demanded, glaring into the Orion's detention cell.

The Orion sneered. "I was trying to kill that creature, just as she killed my crew. And believe me; I won't stop until I have justice."

"The same creature who blinded you, correct?"

The Orion grunted. "You wouldn't know what do if faced with her wrath. Probably piss yourself."

Picard scratched the back of his head. _Her._ "Mmm…you may be right about that," he admitted. "But the truth is, Captain…"

"Bardi," the immense Orion said glowering down at him.

"The truth is, Captain Bardi, I _have_ faced her, many years ago. And she nearly blinded me as well. It's an excruciating burn isn't it?"

Bardi blinked his good eye. "Then why is your ship protecting her?" Bardi demanded.

"Until you boarded my ship, shot one of my crew, nearly broke my arm and my jaw, I had no confirmation that she was in fact on that ship. You see, Bardi, some members of my crew were just over there on that ship, and one of them was killed by her as well. So perhaps our interests are not so far apart after all."

Bardi folded tattooed arms over his muscled chest and stuck his jaw out. "So, I guess all I had to do was to board your ship, hit you with my gun and then let you step on my face and land on my windpipe in order for us to see eye to eye."

Picard made a skeptical face. "Well, I should say there were other methods, Bardi. But then, you are a pirate."

"I am," Bardi confirmed.

Picard paused. "I need to go and speak to my crew, and then perhaps we can come to a suitable understanding, avoiding further violence."

"I'll be here waiting," said Bardi, stating the obvious.

* * *

Just minutes later, Picard stood somberly over the body of Ensign Redd. "How did it happen?" he asked Selar. Riker stood nearby, his face and beard were streaked with blood and grime, and the smell of death rolled off both he and the doctor.

"No one witnessed it, sir," said Riker.

"But we can easily determine that he died because something snapped his neck. There are also clear puncture marks on either side of his neck."

"Claws…" Picard said, leaning in to stare at the young man's neck more closely.

"Yes," said Riker. "How did you know, sir?"

Picard turned and looked at Riker and Dr. Selar. "I have recently come to the realization that I have personally faced this particular adversary before, Commander. Many years ago, when I was myself a young ensign." He looked down sadly at Ensign Redd's lifeless form.

Riker was surprised, but he was so tired that he could barely raise an eyebrow. "But you survived sir. How?"

Picard shook his head, and clapped Riker on the shoulder. He had a feeling that the creature today was the new and improved version: far more lethal and clever than it had been when it was a lovesick teenager. "For another time, Number One. Let's reconvene in the main conference room in four hours, and we can match details at that time. Now I want you and the rest of your team to get some rest," he said wagging his index finger at Riker.

Riker nodded tiredly. "Captain, may I speak frankly sir?"

"Of course."

"You look like hell. Doctor Crusher made me promise to tell you to get medical attention before you leave sick bay sir."

Picard nodded in agreement, his aches and pains from the fight with Bardi beginning to make it difficult to focus on anything else.

Picard turned to Selar. "You did well, Doctor. Your efforts over on the _Eve_ may have saved Ensign Doe's life."

Selar nodded. "Yes. Indeed they did," she agreed.

* * *

Ensign Doe held her hands out in front of her, as Doctor Crusher finished using the dermal and bone knitting tools on her hands. It hurt like hell, but her only consolation, and it was a good one, was that she had the opportunity to gaze at Doctor Crusher up close without feeling too inappropriate. A few times, Doctor Crusher seemed to think something was funny, but Ensign Doe was on so many painkillers she really had little control over what strange faces she was making that might have amused the Doctor. Mostly she tried to keep her mouth shut so that she didn't say anything too dumb. The painkillers helped her not think too much about Ensign Redd, too. At least for now.

"There," said Crusher, finishing the sealant on Doe's hands. "Flex your fingers and your wrists for me, Ensign."

Doe complied, and winced in pain.

Crusher patted the young woman on the knee sympathetically. "I know it must be very painful. The rehab on this will be short, but you do need to complete the exercises in order to gain full function back in your hands, okay?"

Doe smiled. "Thank you, Doctor."

Captain Picard came up behind them, as Crusher was helping Doe to settle back in the recovery bed.

"How are things coming along here? Ensign Doe, we nearly lost you," he said.

Doe tried to sit up straighter at attention, but Crusher pressed her back down gently. She glanced at Picard with a slight smile in greeting.

"I'm really okay, Captain," Ensign Doe assured him. Crusher put the Ensign's hands in a splint-like mechanism to hold them upright while she lay flat.

"Now, we have to keep these elevated for a while longer. The puncture wounds were very severe and punctured an artery- you could have died, Ensign. Now don't try to be brave for Captain Picard. He's even worse at admitting he needs medical care than you are."

Doe's eyes widened at that, but Picard laughed at the jab. "In any case," said Picard. "You acted quickly on board to try and save Doctor Harrow. I am just glad you are still with us."

"Thank you, Captain. I'm glad the doctor made it back with us. That—thing released him when the Orion ship collided with us. She screamed and then…just let him go, sir."

Picard nodded.

Crusher was looking up at Picard while tucking Doe into the bed, and then looked down at the drowsy patient with surprised amusement. "Ensign, did you just smell my hair?"

Doe looked surprised. "Oh no, Doctor. I mean…I didn't mean to," she trailed off groggily. "It's the drugs, I think," she said closing her eyes.

Crusher straightened and patted the side of the bed. "Right. I'll check on you in about an hour, Ensign."

She walked over to Picard who had a slight smile on his face. She put her hand under his chin and lifted it moving his head slowly from side to side. "Nearly had your jaw broken, didn't you?" Her tone was slightly accusing, as though he was completely to blame for his injury.

"Mmm hmm. And your hair does smell lovely, by the way," he said, with a small smile.

She pursed her lips. "Oh, really….Alright, Captain, why don't you step into my office and I can see what's ailing you. Sick bay's a bit full right now, as you can see."

He followed her into her office, and sat down on the edge of her desk silently while she checked over his wounds carefully. For some reason, maybe the fact that they were in private made her ministrations seem more intimate, and he cursed himself silently for letting his mind wander. But her hands did feel cool and smooth on his skin as she traced her fingers up his forearm and gently bent his elbow. "Ow!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, that's what I thought…your elbow was serious hyperextended when that bastard was hammering on it."

"He's actually not a bad sort," said Picard. Crusher leveled her glare at him, and he added, "For a pirate, I mean."

"Jean-Luc, he boarded your ship and attacked you," she said shaking her head. "Since when are you so forgiving? Now open your mouth and say ahh."

"What do you want me to do first: answer your question, or say 'ah'?"

Crusher put her hands on her hips expectantly. "Ah," he said, opening up.

"Your teeth are cracked. He really gave you a wallop with that gun. Okay, now close your mouth. The good news is your nose isn't broken," she said, standing back. "We just need to patch you up and you'll be alright."

"Captain Bardi and I both faced that creature and lived. We have that in common—that's why I can relate to him I suppose. Even though…." He gestured with a shrug at his face.

"And apparently we now know there is some connection between Allen and that creature," said Crusher. "So is this what you were refusing to tell me about? When you said you knew Allen…I guess I didn't know quite what you meant."

 _Certainly not quite like your history with Allen,_ he thought. "It's a long story," he said, not liking the mention of Allen.

"Well, why don't you try and fill me in on some of the details before the next crisis interrupts us," suggested Crusher, sitting down behind her desk.

Picard broke into a slow smile and sat down across from her. "Alright," he agreed.

* * *

 **2355**

She saw one last patient, and then left early at 3pm. Wesley was still at school, but incredibly anxious, she stopped at home anyway to freshen up, which turned into a ridiculous session of trying to find the right outfit to wear. The session ended when she realized she would be at Starfleet Command, so the most appropriate thing to wear would be her uniform, which she had just taken off. Cursing herself she replicated a new uniform and put it on quickly. With barely any time to fix her hair properly, she left home feeling more frazzled than when she had arrived. By the time she left the house, she assumed that the hearing would be over already.

She was wrong; the trial was still under way. Unsure what to do, she sat down on a bench outside the hearing room, feeling suddenly exposed. She knew many of the people who walked by, and although it was none of their business, she knew that even as they smiled at her, they were wondering what she was doing sitting outside the court proceeding for Jean-Luc Picard. Perhaps they thought they knew her, and how she must feel after losing Jack. But they didn't know at all.

The loss of the _Stargazer_ had been big news, and members of the press waited outside Command. She smiled to herself. They were about to be very disappointed. There was no way that Jean-Luc intended to speak to the press. At 4:30, Walker emerged from the hearing room, and stopped in his tracks looking surprised to see her.

"Bev! What are you doing here?" Clearly, he had not expected her to be there. But then the look on his face seemed to indicate he remembered he had been the one to announce the date and time for the hearing.  
She stood up from the bench with a slight smile as he moved to embrace her. "Just here to show my support," she said quietly, hugging him back.

He pulled away and studied her closely. "Really? Well, he's going to be floored by that one. He thinks you hate him, Beverly."

She looked away. "I can't help that, Walker. All I can do is be here for him."

Walker smiled warmly. "I know. Well…it's going to mean the world to him that you're here, if he can ever get over his own insecurities about seeing you."

"Seeing me?"

Walker scratched his head. "Yes…uh, what exactly did he tell you in the message last week?"

She eyed him. "Walker…why should I tell you, if he didn't say anything to you about it?"

"Well, you don't have to, but…I know whatever he said was out of character, and he's been mumbling all week about how he said things he shouldn't have, etcetera, etcetera…."

She stared at her friend, and shook her head. "I'm not telling you, Walker. The things he said were very…well they were very personal."

Walker winced. "That was what I was afraid of…."

Beverly was getting annoyed. "Walker, if you've got something to say, why don't you just tell me?"

Walker looked at her seriously. "I just don't want you to be hurt any more than you already have been."

"I'm a grown woman, Walker. I can protect myself. And frankly, I find it hard to believe that Jean-Luc intends me any harm."

Just then, the doors to the hearing room opened and a crowd of reporters burst forth walking backwards. His brown hair was now very closely cut and was receding further than when she had seen him last in person. And unlike his message from a week prior, he was clean-shaven and looked very respectable in his dress uniform. He also looked extremely annoyed with the attention, which she noted with some amusement, was just like him.

"I don't have anything to add to what I said in my testimony," he said squinting as light from the floating holographic camera shone in his eyes.

"Why didn't you see the ship before it attacked the Stargazer?" asked one reporter.

"Was it a cloaked Romulan ship, Captain? Are the Romulans back on the scene?"

"Scene? What bloody scene?" he murmured, trying to work his way through the crowd. He was looking for Walker, and caught his friend's eye. Walker waved him over. "Excuse me," he said to the press corps politely. He wasn't prepared for the sight of Beverly Crusher. He felt lightheaded suddenly. Had Walker set this up? _How could he?_ Picard thought, feeling slightly betrayed. Walker knew how mortified he had been after the message he left Beverly. He had been so intoxicated he wasn't even sure of all the things he had said. He slowed his pace and took a deep breath, before continuing his approach. What should he do? Should he shake her hand? What was the appropriate way to greet her?

He clasped his hands behind his back with a tight smile. "Hello," he said, looking at Beverly first, and then Walker. Walker gave him a look and Picard could tell that his friend was trying to convey to him that he was just as surprised to see Beverly as he was. But Jean-Luc was not buying it.

"Hello, Jean-Luc," Beverly said softly. It was as if she was glowing. He almost couldn't stand to look at her. He nodded again at her, and shifted his gaze back to Walker.

"How did it go?" Walker asked.

Picard sighed, but didn't sound relieved at all. "It's over," he said. "All over…" he repeated, trailing off and looking at the floor.

"Okay…" Walker looked at Beverly as if to say there was no hope for Jean-Luc. But Beverly wasn't looking at him; she was looking at Jean-Luc. And there was a lot about her expression that made Walker worry. What were her expectations of Jean-Luc? He truly hoped that she did not expect any important declarations from him. Walker looked at them both. Did they love each other? If so, for how long had they felt that way? He felt so sorry for them, it nearly broke his heart. Because he knew that Jack's death meant they believed that they could never truly be together without somehow betraying Jack. But Walker knew that Jack of all people would never have wanted them to suffer. He wondered how long it would be until they realized this for themselves.

Putting an arm around Beverly he said, "Why don't I let you two catch up? I'll connect with you later," he said to Beverly. When he walked away, he stole a glance behind him and saw that they were still standing there in silence.

* * *

"Where can we go to talk?" Beverly said eventually.

Picard's brow creased. "You want to talk?" As nervous as his voice sounded, she still felt the power of it. She realized then that she had missed the sound of his voice.

She smiled. "Yes…is that okay?"

"Of course, of course…um," he looked around and then pointed to some doors off to the right. "We could talk in the library," he suggested. She nodded, and followed him inside.

Once inside, they stood an arms-width apart. Beverly was the first to speak. "I'm so sorry about the Stargazer, Jean-Luc. It must have been so horrible for you."

He smiled sadly. "Thank you. It still seems like a bad dream." He looked at her. "But one day I suppose I will wake up and realize that it really happened."

"And then what will you do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know." He leaned against a nearby table. "You look wonderful, Beverly. It's been a long time."

"Too long," she said. "I was quite surprised to hear from you last week…after so long."

He scratched at some imperfection on the table top. "I should have contacted you sooner. Must have seemed quite pathetic contacting you now, in my hour of need." He clenched his jaw. "I never wanted to appear needy."

"Even you need to talk to someone, Jean-Luc. I didn't mind. In fact, I was just happy to see your face."

"But what about your needs, Beverly? I neglected to contact you for months…."

"Actually," she corrected him. "It's been nearly a year since we spoke. And longer since we've been in the same room."

"And yet you still came today. I'm a very lucky man, when it comes down to it. Even after everything that has happened."

She moved a little closer to him and sat down on the edge of the table. "Walker told me that you were considering going on an extended leave. I think that's a wonderful idea. Will you be staying in the city? Or would you go back to France for a while?"

He looked very uncomfortable. "Definitely not France. And it's been so long that I have stayed here for more than a few weeks, that I no longer have an apartment in San Francisco. I don't know where I will go, to be honest. I suppose I have become too accustomed to constant space travel."

She suddenly took his hand. "Why don't you come and stay with Wesley and me?" She watched as a look of shock passed over his face, and she backpedaled quickly, not sure why she had even made the offer. "At least until you find an apartment," she said, and saw him relax visibly.

She saw him look down at his hand, which she was still holding, and self-consciously she moved to withdraw it, but to her surprise he gripped her hand tightly. "I don't deserve your kindness, Beverly," he said, still looking down.

"Jean-Luc, why would you say such a thing?"

He sighed and finally looked at her. "After the way I behaved last week when I sent you a message. I just, I feel very ashamed. I wish I hadn't said the things I did."

She leaned toward him. "I'm glad you said those things. I wish you had said more."

He looked into her eyes. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes." She smiled at him and then slowly reached her arms around his neck and hugged him. Hesitantly he returned her embrace, feeling his pulse pounding in his ears. Her hair touched his face and he felt as though he would faint. She rubbed her cheek lightly against his neck and then was still. He had to force himself to breathe normally. They stayed like this for several minutes without speaking.

Then Beverly began to think about Jack, Allen, and the complications of simply hugging Jean-Luc. She knew that at least for now, they could go no further than this. She blinked away tears of sadness, as she pulled away from him. He swallowed and watched her as the same emotions he was feeling seemed to play over Beverly's face.

She touched his collar as she stepped backward. "Um…I have to go and pick Wesley up from school." She turned and headed for the door, trying to keep from bursting into tears.

"Beverly," he called out.

"Yes," she said, turning halfway to look at him, still trying to keep her composure.

"Thank you for being such a good friend to me."

She nodded. "Always," she said, before stepping out the door.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

 **Several weeks ago on board the** ** _Eve_**

"I feel like she is watching us, Allen" Penny Chambers said pulling away from his kiss. She was his project assistant, and they had until the last few days been able to keep their attraction hidden.

"Penny, she hasn't emerged in some time. We are as safe as we can be." He put his arms around the young woman's waist.

Penny looked at him in astonishment. "Allen you and I both know that the last year's-worth of engineering has made her even more unstable."

"Penny, if she does come out, she will listen to me. She always does."

She smiled up at him. He was right. He had a way with her—he could reason with her. And so when Penny kissed him again, she never imagined it would be the start of the most frightening time she had ever known.

* * *

 **2361**

He hadn't expected her to walk into his lab, but it was a day he would never forget. As usual she was dressed to the nines and looked at him as though he were something she just scraped off of her fancy shoe.

"I need a progress report, Doctor Harrow. I asked for one last week, and once again you failed to deliver."

"I am working on it, Carmen," said Allen. Years ago at her insistence he had stopped calling Carmen Villanova 'Chancellor'. She hadn't been Chancellor of the Academy for more than ten years now, and she preferred now that even Allen call by her first name.

"Eve is not progressing as we had hoped," she said tightly. "We are in the final stages of this project, Doctor, and she continues to resist the phase technology. Any idea why?"

Harrow rubbed his hands nervously on his lab coat. "She says it's painful for her."

"Then get her past the pain, Harrow. That is your job."

"I know," he said. "I will try harder."

"I've heard that before, Doctor. Now I am beginning to seriously question whether you and Eve need to be separated."

"She doesn't like to be called Eve. Her name is Claudia."

"She's the first of her kind, Harrow. If I want to call her Eve I will. And you shouldn't be encouraging her disobedience."

"You talk about her as though she's our prisoner, Carmen."

Villanova looked at him as though he was crazy, and for the first time he began to wonder if he was. "At this stage in her evolution do you honestly believe that she can live anywhere besides this lab? She can't live out in society, Allen. She'll kill anyone who she perceives as the slightest threat. You know as well as I do, that she could be in prison for the things she has done."

"You sound as though you didn't have any part in making her this way."

"She was already a killer when we found her on that planet Allen—before you even knew about us. But yes, what we've done here has made her more focused, more lethal."

"Which is what you wanted…so why don't you want me to continue my work here?"

"You're too attached to her Allen. In fact sometimes I think you might be just as obsessed with her as she is with you. I think you have a soft spot for Claudia."

"That is ridiculous," he scoffed.

Villanova walked closer. "She's stalling the project on purpose, Allen. She knows that once we finish the phase technology, your part in the project will effectively be done, and we'll hand it over to Starfleet Intelligence. Don't you see? She is dragging this out to keep you with her."

"You can't fire me, Carmen," Allen said, his voice now starting to shake. "I've been with this project since I was a teenager."

Villanova turned away from him and grabbed her handbag. "Well then you'll have quite the résumé then won't you?" She headed for the door of the laboratory.

"A résumé I can't tell anyone about. Carmen…I gave up a career in Starfleet for this!" he shouted.

"Don't worry, Doctor Harrow…I will give you a decent reference."

Enraged, Harrow grabbed a flask nearby and slammed it on the table. He observed his bleeding hand and began to cry in frustration.

"Wait!" Cried a voice behind them. It was Claudia, in her human form, and she was walking through the wall toward them slowly. "Don't cry Allen! I can do the phase. See? No problem at all." She emerged fully from the wall.

* * *

"What are you doing out of your cell?" snapped Villanova. "Put some clothes on!"

Claudia stood nude in the middle of the laboratory, her long brown hair flowing behind her. "This is how Allen prefers me," she said, unashamed of her sinewy body.

"Well, I am sure he does," said Villanova. "But you're not here to entertain my staff, Eve. You are here to work."

Claudia lowered her head. "I've been _working_ for you for a long time, you bitch. And now you want to take Allen away from me….."

Villanova was unmoved. "I'm going to do what's best for the project, Eve. And that may mean that Allen has to go."

Claudia grew seemingly innocent again. "I just showed you I can phase. I just walked through the wall without changing shape."

"But can you do as much when we need you to? Will you do it if Allen is not around?" Claudia hung her head, but kept her eyes fixed on Villanova. They shimmered green. Villanova may have felt a sense of fear, but it wasn't the first time she had been faced with this strange mixture of immaturity and barely contained violence.

"Do you really plan to fire me?" he asked, washing his bleeding hand in a nearby sink. He wrapped it with a cloth, and watched Villanova carefully.

"I haven't _made_ my decision yet," she said slowly, as though she was beginning to realize the potential consequences of Claudia being in the same room when she terminated Harrow's employment.

" _We_ want you to make your decision now," said Claudia softly, circling Villanova dangerously.

Harrow's heart began to race, and he licked his dry lips. What would she do? Neither one of them could stop her if she truly became violent. There were ways to sedate her from afar, but he didn't have anything nearby. If she decided to become violent. Then he began to think; Villanova had said that everyone but Claudia was expendable. That meant that Villanova herself was replaceable.

Villanova stood her ground. "I won't let you threaten me, Eve. Get back in your cell, now," she ordered.

Claudia smiled at her and then suddenly she was gone. Villanova looked down at the floor immediately. "Catch her," she shouted at Harrow, and pointed at the floor. "This is what she did last time to escape, Doctor, catch her!"

On the floor, a small shiny brown spider scurried across the floor toward Villanova. Harrow grabbed a glass container and moved quickly, slamming the glass down over the arachnid. He sighed, relieved and picked up the glass, placing his hand over the top as he lifted it up and looked inside. The tiny spider jumped to and fro, trying to find a way out. He looked at it closely. It was quite poisonous, this type of spider. Villanova was lucky he had moved so quickly to capture Claudia.

Villanova too looked quite relieved. Harrow studied her face. Almost visibly, the hard look returned to her eyes. She stared at him, not speaking. Silently they came to an understanding. She wanted him off the project and there was nothing he could say to convince her otherwise. She had made her decision. And so then he made his own. Taking his hand off the top of the glass, he flicked his wrist toward Villanova, and the tiny spider flew toward the former Chancellor, landing on her neck.

She screamed and clawed at her neck. Spinning around she rushed for the door to the lab, tearing it open and falling out into the hallway. Wheezing, she crawled a few more feet until she collapsed, dead.

* * *

 **2366**

Beverly Crusher stared at Picard in shock. "Are you telling me that Allen knew she was a killer even back then? He knew she killed his girlfriend?"

Picard stood up and put his hand on the back of the chair, watching Beverly as she sat behind her office desk. "Yes," he said simply.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Jean-Luc…I just can't believe that."

He walked over and leaned against her doorway and rubbed his jaw. She had repaired his cracked teeth and jaw, and had given him a hypo to help dull the pain in his throbbing elbow. But he still felt like a mess and knew he must have looked as bad. "Believe it, Beverly, because it is the truth," he said.

She laughed. "Jean-Luc, I know Allen, or at least I _knew_ him. And when I knew him, he was a truly gentle person. I can't believe that he would support this kind of project."

"But Beverly, you know me too…."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes…and?"

"And, so…why don't you believe me?" He was beginning to feel rather slighted.

She tapped her tricorder on her thigh and looked up at him. "Of course—I believe that you strongly believe in what you're telling me. I respect that."

He moved away from the doorway back to her desk and sat back down. She looked mildly surprised at the intense expression on his face. "Beverly…why don't you ask him? Make him explain himself. Then you decide for yourself. Just remember that when he is looking at you with those sympathetic eyes, that he _knew_ that you were at greater risk because of your connection with him, he didn't even tell you."

She nodded, and put her tricorder down. "Are we just talking about Allen's involvement in some shadowy project, Jean-Luc…or are you trying to convince me I shouldn't trust him at all?"

He stood up quickly. "Dammit Beverly, I don't see why this is so difficult for you. For _years_ he has been harboring a murderous creature, whose whereabouts are currently unknown."

He stared at her expectantly.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"I want you to trust me, as a friend should."

"I do."

"But your trust with Allen outweighs any trust that you and I have established over the years."

"That's not what I said," she said, sounding offended.

"Well that is what it _feels_ like you are saying," he said.

She stood up and placed her tricorder on a shelf and then turned back to him. "Are you jealous? You sound jealous." Her tone was daring, challenging him.

He was quiet for a few moments until he took the challenge. "I might be," he said, and instead of giving in to his instinct to run out of the room he waited for her response.

She walked slowly around the desk, raising her eyes to meet his only when she stopped in front of him. "You might be jealous? Why?"

He put his hands up in surrender. "Perhaps I would like you to trust me implicitly as you seem to trust Allen Harrow."

She moved even closer to him, and he actually glanced behind him to see if there was any room, should he need to retreat suddenly. There wasn't much, he decided. "I do trust you," she said softly.

He returned her gaze and found his eyes resting on her lips as they moved. She bit her bottom lip and he felt something inside him come to life. She reached out to touch his collar lightly. He sucked in a quick breath, realizing he had been holding his breath for almost a minute. Her fingertip grazed the side of his neck.

"I—"

"Beverly," said a voice from the doorway. It was Allen Harrow. Beverly let go of Picard's collar and moved away from him. "Beverly, I need to speak with you," said Harrow.

Picard walked toward him. "And _I_ need to speak with you, Doctor Harrow. But first, I need to report to my commanding officer, explaining the very strange and disturbing events-events of which apparently only you and a very dangerous creature know the truth about." He gestured into Beverly's office, as if to say "be my guest". Glancing back at Beverly, he left without another word.

* * *

"Captain Picard, I am more than concerned about what you are telling me. You were ordered to bring the ship and crew back safely."

"Admiral Collins…as I have reported, the crew, with the exception of Doctor Allen Harrow is dead."

"I _understand that_ Captain. But I need that ship!"

"And how do you propose that I commandeer a ship that is inhabited by a veritable killing machine, Admiral?"

"I don't care how you do it, Captain."

"I thought I might obtain some suggestions from you, Admiral, given that this is your family business."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of sick joke at my deceased mother's expense, Captain? I don't like your tone."

"Admiral, you are asking me to bring a so far unstoppable creature back to Star Base 14, which is populated by civilians and Starfleet personnel. Do you have the mechanisms in place to prevent this creature from killing again?"

Collins forward, and his angry face filled the view screen on Picard's ready room desk. "Are you refusing my orders, Captain Picard?"

Picard sat back heavily. He resisted the urge to throw something at the screen. "Not yet, sir. But I am questioning them. I need more information, Admiral."

"The only thing you need to know, Captain, is that ship may be the most precious commodity the Federation has. It is the precursor to a future fleet of ships with highly advanced weaponry and defense systems. It is vital to our progress," he said, pounding his fist on the table for emphasis.

"Then how do I stop the creature? Tell me how to stop her, and then perhaps I can bring the ship back to you."

"Let her know you have no intention of harming Allen Harrow. That might calm her down," Collins said.

" _Calm_ her down? Admiral, she killed one of my crewmen and maimed another…Doctor Selar believes that a seven foot Orion's head was literally bitten off. And you are telling me to calm her down? Sir, I need to know how to kill her."

"Kill her? That doesn't sound like the Jean-Luc Picard they told me would solve this mystery with reason and logic. Besides, there is no way to _kill_ her and also bring me the ship intact, Picard."

"Why?"

"Because she _is_ the ship, Picard."

* * *

 **Oy. I just realized I am missing part of chapter 17 and all of chapter 19, so I will need to re-write these before re-posting them. Anyway, thanks for reading -PP**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

"Beverly, it's so awful. I have been ashamed to tell you of my involvement in this project."

She looked at Allen, and reached out to take his hand. "Allen, is this the same work you were involved in all those years ago when we were together?"

"Yes."

She tried to maintain her calm. "Why didn't you tell me that I was at risk because of my connection to you? Does this...thing actually know who I am?"

"Yes...and she is not a _thing_. She's a person."

"Allen, excuse me for using incorrect terms here, but I've never encountered a human with the ability to do what she does."

"The best way to describe it is that she has a mutation that has been enhanced by technology."

"Well how does she know me?"

"She became aware we were dating all those years ago." Her eyes widened and his voice rose as he rushed to explain, as a look of horror crossed her features. "Beverly that was why I left and never said a word to you. I feared that she would try and kill you."

Beverly knew he was trying to justify his silence on the matter, and perhaps he had tried to protect her all those years ago. But instead she felt betrayed. Her expression hardened, and she let go of his hand. "Did you also fear that I would expose this project if I finally found out what the hell you were doing?"

He looked down. "Yes," he admitted.

She stood up angrily. "I could understand maybe if you were involved in something that spiraled out of control. But you must have known from the start, didn't you? How long had Claudia been the subject of experiments before you joined this project, Allen? Did you _ever_ have her consent?"

Allen made a face and looked away again.

"Allen, Claudia is a sentient being, and deserves more than to live her life as an experiment!"

"It's a long story, Beverly. Claudia is a very troubled individual."

"That might be the biggest understatement I've ever heard. But... did she become this way before or after she met you? Because if I had to endure a life od imprisonment I would be troubled too."

"Beverly, that's not fair-"

"Neither is keeping me in the dark! You could have made it much easier for Jean-Luc and I..."

"So this is about him?"

She paused carefully. "Partly, yes. If I had known he was just trying to protect me, I might not have objected to the away team assignments like I did. But no one really knew the true risk to the away team but you. The fact is Allen, if the Captain had known that he was speaking to the creature and not Commander Robinson, he would never have assembled an away team at all. Do you know how guilty he must feel for having sent them into that situation? And now he knows that it could have been avoided if you had told him the creature was still on the loose."

Allen nodded. "Everything you say is correct. I just ask you to give me another chance, Beverly. You are the only ally I have on this ship."

Beverly hit her forehead lightly with the heel of her hand. "But can't you see why, Allen? You have lied to every single person on board...even me. Even after everything, I believed that we had a connection between us; a trust."

"I am so sorry."

"A young man died, and a young woman was seriously injured because _you_ kept information from the Captain. Sorry cannot be nearly enough at this point."

* * *

"Number One, we have a very grave problem," Picard said, pouring his First Officer a cup of coffee, and then sitting down across from him with his own cup of tea. Riker looked somewhat rested but had been uncharacteristically quiet, and was still visibly unsettled by his experience on board the _Eve_. "We have orders, which we cannot safely, or I would argue ethically carry out at this time."

"Because of the creature's presence on the _Eve_ , sir?" Riker stared into his mug hoping the caffeine would offer some inspiration. "I agree it seems an unnecessary safety risk to bring the ship back with _her_ on it. But Captain, to be honest with you, even if there wasn't a homicidal being loose on that ship…I don't see the point of bringing a ship with no crew back to Star Base 14."

Picard breathed in deeply. "It's actually worse than that, Commander. Admiral Collins revealed to me today that the _Eve_ , and the creature that inhabits it, are one and the same."

"What?" Riker whispered, clearly shocked. "Captain, we saw it come out of the walls and grab Doctor Harrow. But I never imagined…."

"Neither did I, Number One. In fact, had I known, I never would have sent you over to that ship." He fiddled with his tea cup. "You know that, don't you?"

Riker frowned. "Captain, I know you would never have risked your crew if you had known the truth about what we would find over there. But Harrow did know, sir. And he allowed us to go into that—that pit of death." He sighed and sat back in his chair. "Captain, it's going to be difficult to shake the images of those bodies just…just all over the deck of that ship."

Picard nodded. "I know," he said quietly. "Will, I need to gather some information from Harrow, enough to ensure our safety. But then, I need to figure out what to do with him…."

Riker's brow crinkled in confusion. "What to do with him, sir?"

Picard suddenly slammed the side of his fist onto the desk and then pushed himself out of his chair. "I don't trust Harrow, dammit, and I want him off of my ship!"

Riker stared up at Picard in surprise. Rarely if ever had he seen the Captain express anger in this way. It was alarming. He could chalk it up to stress, but Captain Picard simply did not give in to stress even in the worst situations. "Captain, I don't mean to get personal, but...are you alright?"

Picard crossed his arms. "Yes," he said stiffly. "I apologize for my outburst, Commander."

"Don't mention it sir."

"But I don't trust Admiral Collins, his secret project, and least of all, Doctor Harrow, who seems to have lived his life in service to a project that had the sole purpose of enslaving another sentient being as an experiment. Everything he stands for, turns my stomach, and yet-" He sat back down, and looked at Riker. "Will, I'm afraid I've let my personal feelings cloud my judgment."

"Your personal feelings, sir...sir, it's alright, you don't have to explain-"

"Doctor Crusher was _involved_ with Harrow," Picard blurted out quickly. "A long time ago."

Riker folded his hands diplomatically. "Ah. I see." He glanced around the room uncomfortably.

"And it's none of my concern-or shouldn't be," continued Picard, almost rushing to get his words out. "...and yet, I've had to struggle to regain my objectivity every time I see the man."

Riker drank the rest of his coffee and placed the mug down carefully. "Captain, not even you can be objective all of the time, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. Beverly is your friend, not just your officer. If something Harrow has done has somehow put her at greater risk than the rest of us, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to dump him at the nearest planet and let him fend for himself."

Picard absently touched a tender spot on his jaw. "But it's not that simple, is it, Number One?"

"No sir. If Harrow knows how to stop this creature, then the bottom line is we need him around."

Picard nodded. Of course he had known this, but getting his problem with Harrow out in the open, at least in front of Riker, had helped clear his head somewhat. "Thank you Commander for listening."

"Anytime, sir."

Picard tugged at the hem of his uniform. "Now, I believe it is time we headed to Ten Forward to pay our respects to Ensign Redd."

* * *

Picard stood behind the lectern, and cleared his throat. He had brought his data pad with a traditional Starfleet funerary reading on it, but he placed it down with a click. "It is safe to say that of all the duties a star ship captain has, presiding over the funeral of a crew member is the most difficult." He surveyed the crowd of somber faces in Ten Forward. which among others included Ensign Doe, who had just been released from sick bay. He had seen the angry stare she had leveled at the scientist when she walked in. He more than empathized with her feelings. He understood the loss, but that didn't make it any easier.

To remain focused on his difficult task, he carefully avoided looking directly at Dr. Harrow who was sitting between Beverly and Counselor Troi in the audience. He could not help but notice that unlike the rest of the crew, Allen Harrow's expression appeared less somber than agitated.

Picard shifted to his left foot restlessly, and gripped the side of the lectern tightly. "It is perhaps that much more painful to see one of our own fall in the line of duty at so young an age, just as his life and career were unfolding in front of him," he continued.

Suddenly there was a murmur in the crowd, which turned into shouts as the emergency yellow alert flooded the room. An alarm began to drone throughout the lounge.

 _Warning. Perimeter Alert. Collision is imminent._

Picard turned his head just as the view port filled with white, and the whole room shook. "Get down!" he shouted, as he and everyone else were thrown backward from the force of the violent collision. A second alarm began to wail as dark smoke poured into Ten Forward.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

It was the oldest trick in the book. The guard was a typical guard, acting bored; pretending not to watch his prisoner Captain Bardi, when he really was. So when the ship shook with a sudden collision, Bardi threw himself to the deck, slamming his palm into the metal bunk, just to incorporate some sound effects into the maneuver. He knew that the Starfleet guard would take notice.

As Bardi pretended to be unconscious he heard the guard approach, heard him draw his phaser weapon. "Hey!" the guard called out. Bardi lay very still. In his head the guard began to frantically search for the protocol to follow when one's prisoner became unresponsive due to illness or injury. He remembered the handbook said something about calling for back up. But there was currently a red alert in effect. He couldn't count on anyone who knew what they were doing to show up. So of course he decided to go it alone.

The guard put his palm on the field sensor and the bluish field snapped off. Now suspecting a trick; the guard powered up his phaser. But all Bardi needed was one more step. The guard leaned down, phaser trained on the prisoner's head, and Bardi snaked his hand up and around swiftly, grabbing the human's phaser. Bardi then caught the man's lower legs between his own so forcefully that he snapped the guard's ankle, sending him to the floor screaming in agony.

Bardi wasn't going to kill the guard. He liked the human Captain, because he always enjoyed a good fight. And knowing the captain of this ship would not be happy that he had escaped, perhaps ensured him another good fight. Stepping over the groaning guard, he leaned out into the corridor, unable to keep the smile off of his face. Soon he would find a way…he would have his revenge against the creature.

* * *

Deanna Troi coughed. She was lying on her stomach amid chaos of frenzied shouts and smoke. She turned her body toward the view port. What she saw made her heart shrink with fear. The Eve had collided with the hull directly outside of Ten Forward. Now it appeared that the ship was attaching itself to the hull of the Enterprise, creating some kind of seal. She could see cracks beginning to spider through the observation windows. Deanna was no engineer, but she knew very well that the cracks appearing in the transparent alloy of the view port meant the hull on Deck Ten had been compromised.

As the cracks in the windows spread, she felt a growing uncomfortable pressure in her skull, and worked her jaw and swallowed until her ears popped. The temperature had dropped significantly in just a matter of seconds. If the windows collapsed, anything or anyone not tied down would be blown out into space. If that happened, they would all be safest where she was now until the shield kicked in and patched the breach. Just in case, she crawled, keeping herself below the worst of the smoke until she grabbed a secured table leg.

Suddenly she heard the captain's voice. "Everyone hold on to something tightly. We need to get the pressure equalized in here," he was shouting.

Beverly heard Jean Luc's voice and crouched behind the bar, where she had been thrown during the collision. She could feel the side of her temple swelling where she had struck her head. Feeling very dizzy, she looked around for wounded crew members, but her vision was blurry. So, following orders she gripped the side of the bar as tightly as she could and shrunk down as much as possible. Everything would be under control, she told herself. They just needed to get through the next few minutes.

Riker tossed a chair off of his midsection and sat up. There wasn't a damn thing nearby that he could hold on to, if the hull went. He glanced behind him and saw that the captain was leaning over the bar, gesturing wildly at Guinan, who was behind the bar, looking almost normal even under the circumstances. Nearby, Worf too was getting to his feet slowly. Riker pushed himself to his feet, just as Worf knelt down to attend to a wounded crewman.

"Riker to bridge."

 _"Data here."_

"Data I think I know what just happened, but..."

 _"The Eve has collided with the ship's hull at your location, Commander,"_ Data confirmed. _"The Eve appears to be creating a pressurized seal between our two vessels."_

"Find a way to get it off of our hull with minimal damage to the Enterprise," Riker ordered.

 _"Aye sir."_

 _Deck Ten cabin pressure has now been restored to acceptable safety levels_ , announced the computer. The yellow alert continued to flash, but the alarms stopped, and the air began to return to normal.

Waving smoke away from his eyes, Riker moved to join the Captain. Picard was pointing underneath the bar, and Riker looked on in surprise as Guinan pulled out a huge alien-looking rifle of some kind and handed it to Picard. It appeared that he had known it was there all along, and immediately charged it up, as it emitted a high pitched whine.

Picard gripped the bar and turned to face the Eve. She was going to try and board his ship. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Beverly opened her eyes as Deanna crawled over to her. "Beverly, you're injured," she said, touching the side of her friend's face gently.

"I'm okay," she mumbled in response. She looked at Deanna. "Are you?"

Troi nodded. "Just stay still."

"Have to help the wounded," Beverly said groggily.

Deanna shook her head with concern, and gripped Crusher's arm. "No. Captain Picard is very worried for your safety, Beverly," she said. "I think he wants you to stay here."

Crusher looked at her friend. Was there really anywhere for her to go? "Ask him why he won't take his own advice and take cover. Tell him to move to safety."

Deanna smiled slightly. "Beverly, I am not a messaging service..."

Beverly glanced behind her. Where was Allen? He had come to the service, but was now nowhere to be seen. She hoped he was hiding, in case Claudia came on board. She had no idea what to expect if Claudia did arrive. She could only hope that the shape shifting killer could be stopped.

* * *

Just then there was an odd sucking sound coming from the wall and, a figure or silhouette appeared to be moving inside the wall, which in turn began to move like a series of ripples. A bare foot suddenly extended from the wall toes first. Then the legs, arms and torso of a naked woman emerged the rest of the way. After phasing completely through the wall and floating into Ten Forward, the woman momentarily floated upright with her long brown hair flowing behind her.

It was her. She was older, of course, but it was the same person he had seen under those bleachers all those years ago. In many ways, she was quite beautiful. Captain Picard kept his rifle trained on Claudia, as did Worf, but she merely turned her head from side to side, ignoring the weapons trained on her for the moment.

She reached out in front of her, as she descended to the floor. "Allen," she called out. "Allen, come back to me," she repeated plaintively now standing on the deck. Her quiet desperation sounded sincere.

Before Picard could act, Allen stepped out from behind a pylon, revealing his hiding place. "Claudia, I'm right here," he said.

Claudia immediately broke into a radiant smile. Picard for the first time, admired what appeared to be either courage or stupidity from the scientist. And he knew very well that Allen Harrow was not stupid.

"Stay where you are, Doctor Harrow," Picard warned.

Claudia, who had been smiling at Harrow, whipped her head around to glare at Picard. Her voice now held a sinister tone. "Jean-Luc Picard, you are always trying to trap Allen…trying to blame him for crimes he didn't commit." She took a step toward Picard. He saw for the first time an old but ugly circular scar next to her eye. It was where he had thrust a metal pipe at her while in lizard form, so many years ago.

* * *

Beverly's breath caught in her chest as she watched the scene. Troi held her firmly back from rushing forward. She wanted to yell for Jean-Luc to get out of the way, but she knew it might set Claudia off. Deanna reached out to grip Beverly's hand, but to calm her down so that she would not try anything risky, and to comfort her.

"Hello, Claudia," said Picard as calmly as possible. He felt the little hairs rise on the back of his neck, as he and Claudia regarded each other. "Claudia, I only want to help Allen. But you must understand, he does not want to be with you any longer."

Claudia's craned her neck oddly in his direction. Her eyes flashed that eerie shade of green he would never forget, and perhaps would forever see in his nightmares. She sniffed the air, and he took a reflexive step backward, which did not work well, because he was floating in mid-air.

"Allen knows he wants to be with me, Picard. But as long as you are here he will be too afraid to come with me. You only want to persecute Allen. He never even killed that stupid girl—I did."

Picard clenched his jaw tightly. "I know, Claudia…and as I said, I am not interested in hurting Allen. But like you, he is a sentient being and has the right to make his own decisions—"

"Sentient being?!" Claudia took three quick steps until she was within five feet of him. Riker and Worf tried somewhat successfully to interject themselves between Picard and Claudia, but Picard put a restraining hand up to stop them.

"You think I have been treated as a sentient being Picard?" demanded Claudia.

"No, I don't think you have been, Claudia," replied Picard, attempting to keep his voice as even as possible. "I think you have been mistreated for a long, long time. But that does not give you the right to mistreat others—"

She hissed at him, and for an instant a flash of scales appeared on her body. Her voice seemed to alter as well, and became lower. "You alwaysss think you know what is bessst, Picard…I will take Allen with me, and if you try to stop me, you will die watching us leave."

"I'm not going with you, Claudia," Allen suddenly declared. "I can't do this anymore. We both deserve to be free."

* * *

Claudia let out a hideous scream, which transformed into a roar, as her body was replaced by an immense four-legged beast. It leapt at Picard, who immediately fired at it. The recoil from the rifle sent him staggering backward until he caught himself. Worf dove underneath the creature and fired as it passed over him. The creature had sticky glands on the undersides of its feet, and moved quickly, seemingly without effort. Worf tried again to advance on the creature, but she batted him out of the way effortlessly, advancing on the Captain, who was on one knee, holding the holding the alien gun with both hands. The creature turned quickly, slamming its tail into his side and sending him to the floor. As it reached out with a spiny arm and pinned Picard to the floor, it leaned down hissing. The next thing Picard dimly heard was the creature screaming, and the pressure left his chest.

Beverly watched horrified as the creature bore down on Jean-Luc. Worf lay unconscious on the floor, and Riker moved to shield the Klingon with his body. A long scratch was visible on the security chief's neck. Ensign Doe had scrambled over, and now had Worf's phaser in her possession. She was angling for a clear shot, but then suddenly Guinan broke a bottle of synthehol on the bar, and quickly stuck the jagged bottle into a soft spot behind the creature's head as it passed by her. It let out a horrific wail and then scampered toward the doors to Ten Forward. Amazingly, it shrunk down, and disappeared under the doors.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

He couldn't breathe, and struggled to sit up. Beverly's grip was very strong, holding him down. "Jean-Luc just lay flat. Don't try to sit up," she told him. "Can you breathe?"

His eyes were shut tight from the pain, and he shook his head "no".

She squeezed his shoulder. "It's alright. You're diaphragm was stunned by that thing's tail. Take some deep breaths through your nose." He slowly opened his eyes and blinked. She was crouching over him and she forced a smile when she saw he had opened his eyes. She pulled up the left side of his shirt and gently prodded his ribs. "Two of your ribs are fractured, but it could have been much worse. We'll have you healed up in a few days," she said encouragingly.

"You're hurt also," he gasped painfully, taking in the bruised appearance of her temple.

"Shh," she said. "I gave myself an analgesic. Just a slight concussion, I'll be fine." Taking her advice he breathed in slowly through his nose, and gradually the painful frozen sensation in his chest abated. She held his hand in one of hers and then reached out to touch his face lightly with the other, keeping her fingers there a few moments more than was probably necessary. But he really didn't mind.

She smiled down at him. "A little better?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

"I'll be right back," she reassured, patting his hand again. He nodded.

Picard watched as she got up and walked over to Worf, who was sitting down on a bar stool and holding his forehead in his hands. Deanna and Riker stood nearby, comforting a distraught crew member.

Taking the opportunity now that Beverly had gone, he struggled to sit up. He grunted, pushing himself up into a sitting position. At least no one had been seriously hurt. It seemed that Claudia had not realized Beverly's presence in Ten Forward. For now, he thought to himself, she was safe. It could have been much worse, and yet he felt a very heavy feeling of dread. Until they captured Claudia, the people he cared about most were at grave risk.

Worf rubbed the back of his neck where he had been scratched. He glanced over at Captain Picard, who was with Doctor Crusher. It seemed that Claudia was holding a grudge against the Captain. He watched as Doctor Crusher attempted to provide aid to Picard. She was telling him to lie still, but Worf knew the Captain would be restless, and as anxious to find Claudia as he was.

Worf began to fall unconscious. "That beast must have had some kind of sleep agent in its claws," he muttered.

Guinan appeared out of the corner of his eye and she abruptly grabbed his chin and pulled upward. He was too groggy to properly object and instead just grunted. She peered into his glassy eyes. "I'd say you've been poisoned, Lieutenant."

Then a few moments later, Doctor Crusher was there at his side too. "Here," said Beverly. "Let me see what happened to you," she gently pried his hand away from his neck.

Riker looked over at Guinan. "Guinan, you are full of surprises...did you just save everyone's life?"

"Actually, I'm not so sure about that, Commander. But let's hope at the very least I put off the inevitable."

"Don't talk like that," Picard snapped, limping over to them. "We are going to prevail and get through this alive." He braced himself on the bar. "We'll beam to sick bay," he added wincing. "Safer that way..." The idea that he was no longer in control of the safety on board his ship had shaken him, but this was as close as he intended on getting to express his fears about the situation.

Beverly nodded, and looked over at Guinan. "Are you injured?" she asked out of concern.

Guinan held up her index finger almost casually. "Just a nick from a Saurian brandy bottle," she said.

Riker looked at Guinan. "How did you know where the weak spot was on that thing?"

Guinan smoothed her hand along the bar realizing she had a lot of cleaning up to do. She smiled slightly at Riker and shrugged. "Well you see…I had this pet once..."

The look of shock on Riker's face was still there as they beamed away to sick bay.

* * *

She moved through the walls as a filament; it was not a difficult thing for her to become part of the ship's matrix. It was the fastest way to the medical bay on this ship, which she knew she must reach or she would surely die. The alien who had struck her from behind had somehow known the correct spot to weaken the monster. The monster could regenerate, as could so many of the forms that she took on; or rather took her over. But her human form was just as fragile as the other humans on board, and she could not stay in the walls indefinitely as a spark of electricity without also allowing her human body to die from blood loss. So she needed to be healed. Because without her human body, Allen would not love her.

She had injured Picard and also the Klinon, one of those who had invaded her ship and then fled taking Allen with him. And when she had sniffed the air in that room after coming aboard she had caught a scent of someone from long ago.

It had been years ago that she had hid under a child's bed, waiting for the mother to leave his side. Much as her own mother had stayed with Claudia until she could no longer draw a breath, the Crusher woman had stayed with her son and taken him from the room, denying Claudia her jealous revenge.

She had seen Crusher on the bridge when she had taken the form of Commander Robinson and had tricked Picard. But even when they had been fooled by her disguise, Crusher had tried to prevent Allen from returning to her. But now that Claudia had come on board, the plot against her had been made very clear. They would stop at nothing to keep Allen from her, and she could not allow them their victory. As she neared the medical bay, she recalled that Crusher was a doctor. She would have her medical care and reintroduce herself to her rival. And then later, she would have her revenge.

* * *

Picard stretched his side tentatively under Beverly Crusher's watchful, clinical gaze. He tried not to make a pained face, as he slipped his shirt back on over his head. Pulling his shirt down he hopped down off the recovery bed. "I'm feeling much better," he said, trying to sound positive. Beverly's expression was tense.

He knew that pursuant to his own orders, extra security was now posted throughout the ship, civilians and non-essential personnel were confined to quarters. Sick bay was perhaps the most heavily secured, with armed guards posted throughout. He knew that normally Doctor Crusher would have objected to her sick bay resembling a militarized zone, but not now; not under these circumstances.

Crusher placed a hypo against his neck for the pain. "In a few days it should be much less stiff. You'll be healed in no time," she said snapping the hypo back in its case. As positive as she intended her tone to be, the tense look on her face gave him pause. He could tell she was worried, even fearful, and it made him angry that there was probably little he could do to alleviate her fears.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

She looked at him. "Jean-Luc…we're all at-risk. But it's obvious that she hates you with a passion. And as I've come to learn from you and Allen, she's not too fond of me either."

"So you're worried…of course, that's natural, Beverly. Given the circumstances I hope that you won't object to the fact that I have ordered several guards posted outside your quarters."

She looked slightly surprised, but shook her head. "No, you have to do what you think is best." She took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the recovery bed he was leaning against. She looked down at her hands. "To be honest, Jean-Luc, I am worried about Wesley. If anything were to happen…." Despite her attempts to keep her emotions restrained, her eyes began to tear up. She tried to blink the tears away angrily, knowing how the Captain felt about such displays.

Unexpectedly he faced her and grasped her hands tightly in his own. "Beverly, nothing is going to happen to Wesley."

"Jean-Luc, you can't possibly know for sure—"

He suddenly reached out and embraced her tightly. His voice was low and hoarse. "I know." He continued to hold her and she moved closer to him, wanting desperately to feel some comfort. But instead she began to feel something more, and wondered for the first time if comfort was not the only thing that he was offering.

She knew no one was in the recovery room with them, but she suddenly felt self-conscious that someone might walk in. She pulled away from him slightly and glanced at the door. No one was there. Turning her head back to him she saw he was gazing at her with an intense expression.

"What?" She looked at him hesitantly, unused to this kind of closeness with him.

"Sometimes I wonder…" he reached up to her face and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

She swallowed. "What do you wonder?"

"About this," he said leaning in to kiss her on the mouth. After tensing up for a moment, she closed her eyes and responded by kissing him back. As he tightened his embrace, she pressed her palm against the small of his back, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly they both pulled away from each other. Picard looked down at his boots as Crusher touched her lips with her hand. "What did we just do?" she asked for both of them.

"I don't know," he mumbled, feeling very embarrassed. "It's my fault, of course. I shouldn't have presumed…I don't know why I did it. Please accept my apology," he said quickly, now looking almost frightened. He stepped away from her. Had he just ruined a friendship?

She smiled at his fumbling. "Jean-Luc, if I hadn't wanted you to kiss me, then I would have told you so. But in case you hadn't noticed, I enjoyed kissing you..."

"Oh," he said simply and blushed looking away. Regaining his composure somewhat, he said, "In any case, I should go. I need to check in with the security arrangements around the ship. When do you end your shift?"

"Midnight," she said, backing up in attempt to mirror his efforts at a return to professional decorum.

"Then I will meet you here and walk you back to your quarters. Please don't object," he added quickly. "It is simply because I am concerned for your safety."

"Captain, I would never object to you walking me home. I'll see you in a few hours," she said.

Nodding, he turned and left swiftly.

* * *

"How is Worf?" Picard said, standing up from the Captain's chair as Troi stepped onto the bridge. "Are you just coming from seeing him?"

Troi smiled at the Captain's concern. "Yes sir, he is resting in his quarters. Doctor Crusher says as long as he is able to rest he should be ready for duty tomorrow."

Picard nodded. "Excellent." He gestured toward the ready room. "Counselor, let's talk for a few minutes."

"Yes, sir of course." Once in his ready room, he offered her a seat on the couch and then sat down next to her. She waited expectantly, crossing one knee over the other and lacing her fingers over her knee.

"Could you give me an assessment of Claudia's mental status? Can you sense where she is?" he asked tensely.

Troi hesitated. The Captain's emotions were a jumble. She would have to ignore that for now, if she was to give him the information he needed. "Captain…everything you warned us about Eve is correct."

"Eve? Not Claudia?"

"It's hard to explain, Captain, but Eve is Claudia and everyone—everything else she is capable of becoming, wrapped into one. In my mind's eye, she is Eve. Claudia is focused on Allen alone, but the rest of the very powerful aspects of her, namely the creature she refers to in her mind as the 'monster' have divergent interests. She is almost as much at war with herself as she is with us, sir. The one thing I am sure of, is that she means us great harm."

Picard leaned forward. "Can you determine where she might be?"

Deanna shook her head, looking almost apologetic. "I am sorry, Captain. I don't know exactly where she is, sir."

Picard sighed. "It's quite alright, Counselor. Anything else?"

"Yes…I believe that Eve is experiencing a significant physical and mental change that she is not completely aware of. She is…evolving it seems, or perhaps de-evolving depending on how you look at it."

"I don't understand," said Picard.

"Perhaps I can explain."

Picard and Troi both looked up to see Allen Harrow standing there. Picard stood up to face the scientist.

"Given the circumstances…given that we have a shape-shifting psychopath wandering the ship, Doctor to simply disappear from Ten Forward was very foolish! Where were you?"

"I was trying to ascertain where Claudia might have gone," said Harrow dully.

"And?"

"I don't know where she is any more than Counselor Troi does. But I can tell you, Captain that Counselor Troi is right. Claudia is becoming the creature she refers to as the monster. She thinks it is just another creature she can shift into, but in reality the monster is just as much Claudia as the human part of her. It may have always been this way. We thought her abilities were in effect a mutation caused from living on the planet she was rescued from as a child. Creatures similar to that monster were the dominant life forms on that planet, and they were capable of shape shifting. For reasons unknown to me, she is changing, and I am not certain she will be capable of sustaining her human form consistently much longer."

Picard sat back down slowly. "Harrow, she won't rest until she has you in her possession. You realize that don't you? You realize the guarantee of violence that you have brought aboard my ship?" he demanded, his voice rising.

Harrow nodded. "Yes, I realize it." But he was uncertain if he could do anything to remedy what he had done. "For now, to stay safe, you should all stay as far away from me as possible," said Harrow quietly and then left the room.

* * *

Beverly stood leaning against the wall near one of the diagnostic beds. Her eyes shut periodically and she remembered being with Jean-Luc. She was exhausted, and despite the dangers lurking around her, she could not stop thinking about what had happened earlier. Coming to reality and seeing her sick bay was swarming with security personnel, she shut her eyes again.

That was when she heard a shuffle coming from one of the supply rooms. She knew Doctor Selar was the only other doctor on duty, and noticed that Selar had been missing from making her rounds for a few minutes. She heard what sounded like a slow gurgling sound coming from the supply area again. Gesturing to a security officer to follow her, she pulled out a small phase from her pocket.

She and the security officer entered the supply room and they stopped immediately in horror. Doctor Selar stood with her back to the wall, and her eyes were wide with exertion, as she struggled to free herself. Holding fast around her neck was a blood-covered arm protruding from the wall. The arm seemed to tighten its grip as they entered. A thin stream of green blood dripped from Selar's mouth. Suddenly appearing next to Selar's head was Claudia's face, which now phased halfway out of the wall.

"Give me medical treatment now, or this one dies," Claudia warned them. "If you think I can't kill a Vulcan as easily as I do a human, you are wrong."

Crusher put her hands up. "What do you need? Just let my officer go," she said.

"Need?" Claudia's face grimaced. "I _need_ Allen…but since you are going to make me kill to have him back, for now I need something to use as a clotting agent, and a derma repair tool."

Beverly immediately turned to a shelf and began to grab supplies, throwing them into a bag. For a moment she considered turning back around and shooting the arm. Claudia was seriously wounded. Maybe shooting her would end this deadly game. But what if she hit Selar on accident instead? She would never forgive herself. Selar was not only her best doctor, but was her friend as well. No, she couldn't risk it. But what about putting something lethal into a hypo spray?

"And give me a hypo spray for the pain," Claudia snarled. "And don't put anything in it that you would not want me to test on your friend here."

Beverly's hand shook as she put a cartridge into a hypo spray and threw it in to the bag. She reached out her arm, holding the bag away from her. A second arm extended from the wall and snatched the bag, drawing it back into the wall.

Selar was released then, and she dropped to the floor, gasping. The security officer rushed in and picked up Selar, stepping back to safety with her.

Claudia's face began to fade back into the wall. "You made the right decision, Doctor. But I watched you with Picard earlier. To think that you would betray Allen and _still_ try and keep him for yourself. But your selfishness will not last too much longer, and Allen will come back to me. But I want you to know that now I know what your weaknesses are."

Crusher gripped the phaser tightly as Claudia disappeared fully into the wall, before turning to help her friend.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

"I want Captain Bardi located and put back in the Brig, Mr. Worf," rumbled Captain Picard. "How the _hell_ did he escape from detention?" Counselor Troi sat placidly on the ready room couch observing the interaction.

Worf stood at attention, aware that the Captain's wrath was completely justified. He had succeeded in convincing the captain to let him return to duty sooner than anticipated, and the captain was certainly not letting him off the hook easily.

"I…questioned the guard on duty, Captain. The guard _claims_ that the Orion tricked him into believing he had fallen unconscious when the Eve rammed into the Enterprise. I explained to him the _unlikelihood_ of such an occurrence taking place. The Ensign was injured during the Orion's escape but has now been released from sick bay. He has now been removed from duty, and will be punished accordingly, Captain."

Picard sighed and waved his hand dismissively. "No. Any formal reprimand will have to wait, Lieutenant. We need all of our security personnel on duty to ensure the safety of the rest of the crew. But…perhaps guard duty is no longer appropriate for that officer, Lieutenant."

"Aye sir," said Worf, staring straight ahead.

Picard leaned against his desk. "Bardi is blindly bent on revenge against Claudia's so-called monster, and it goes without saying that his escape will only escalate the violence. Bring assistance with you of course, but I need you to personally handle this matter, Lieutenant. Understood?"

Assistance? Worf had been looking forward to taking the pirate back into custody…the hard way. He shifted unhappily and frowned. "Yes, Captain. However, I do not _need_ assistance," he protested as though he had just been deeply insulted.

Picard walked over to the Klingon, glaring up at him. " _Yes_...you _do_ ," he said tightly. "Dismissed."

Worf nodded and turned swiftly to exit the room.

Picard walked back to his desk gripping his data pad. He spoke quietly, with controlled anger. "Counselor, this situation has quickly spiraled out of my control. I have teams roaming the ship looking for Claudia, and security posted at every crucial juncture on board. But how do I fight someone or something that can become anything on a whim? And the crew...they are not all equipped to handle a super being that was honed and twisted inside a secret lab for decades. And now I have a vengeful pirate on the loose. I should have booted him off my ship as soon as he landed here."

"Your crew is the best Starfleet has to offer, Captain. When faced with danger, they will rely on their training. And you should not blame yourself for what is happening. You have taken every available precaution, sir."

"I _will_ blame myself!" he shouted, slamming the data pad down on the desk. He shook his head, immediately regretting losing his temper. Certainly Counselor Troi was not to blame. He adjusted his voice accordingly. "Because it is not enough. Because I allowed that thing to board my ship. And now I must face the consequences of my inaction."

Troi got up from her seat. "Inaction? Captain you fought her. You tried to stop her..." She hesitated before placing a hand on his arm. He glanced at her and then returned his stare to the table, but didn't walk away from her. She kept her hand on his forearm. She could tell that he needed her help, and it may have been that this was as receptive as he would ever be.

"Captain," she said. "I can tell that your mind is very troubled. In addition to the danger we are all facing, I sense that something else has happened recently to unsettle you."

"It's nothing," he said, and pulled free of her before walking over to the couch and sitting down stiffly. He sat quietly with his hands between his knees, and seemed on the verge of saying something.

Troi had known him long enough now to know that was her cue. She walked over and sat down next to him. He glanced away from her. "Captain...did something significant happen between you and Doctor Crusher? Normally I would not pry, but it is crucial that your mind be clear in this time of crisis."

He shook his head and looked down at his lap seemingly deep in thought. After a long silence he admitted, "Yes...something happened."

Deanna looked at him compassionately. "Perhaps it would help you to tell me about it," she prompted gently.

"I kissed her." He breathed in sharply through his nose and then winced, bringing his hand to his bruised ribs.

She smiled faintly. "Captain, you sound as though you regret it. Didn't she return your affections?" She put her hand on his knee.

He looked at her. He was uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, but he still appreciated her support. "Yes…she did…return my affections, that is. But…Counselor," he said turning to face her. "Do you think that what I did—what we did will harm our friendship?"

Deanna smiled at his earnest expression. "Captain…I have observed that the attraction you and Beverly share actually _is_ an integral part of your friendship. Have you considered that you shared this attraction even before you became such good friends? That perhaps by acting on that attraction you would only be strengthening your friendship with Beverly?"

He studied her face. He had never thought of it that way. Of course he had always felt that there was something between them since the first day they met. And he knew that he had loved her a long time ago. He had sensed that at the very least she found him attractive. But so many years had passed during which he had consciously buried those feelings. "You may be right," he said slowly. He smiled slightly. "My mind does feel a bit clearer now. Thank you, Counselor."

"Of course, Captain. That is what I am here for," she said, standing up.

Just then the Captain's communicator chirped. He tapped it. "Picard here," he said.

"Jean-Luc…." it was Beverly, and she sounded upset. He glanced at the time; it was fifteen minutes before midnight. He had promised to go and meet her when her shift ended at midnight.

He stood up, alarmed at the tone in her voice. "Beverly, what is it? Did something happen?"

"Claudia was here…she injured Dr. Selar…I-"

"Doctor, Counselor Troi and I are on our way to you right now," he said, as they hurried out the door.

* * *

She sat curled up in the cargo bay half asleep. Her body needed the rest, but the treatments Beverly Crusher had given her had helped. How ironic that the woman she most wanted to hurt had probably saved her life. It did not change Claudia's feelings one bit. She was determined. And yet…something in her mind was needling at her.

The monster seemed ever-present now, as though it were waiting just below the surface to come out. And more often, she wanted it to. But the monster and she did not always agree. For the monster had recently told her it wanted to leave. It wanted to go home. But where was home? She could only dimly remember. It was hard for her to admit to herself that the monster was right. Where were she and Allen to go, once she had convinced him to go with her? She did not want to be part of the Eve ship forever. She wanted to be free…but while she wanted to be free with Allen, she knew the monster did not care if Allen was with her or not. It only wanted to be free. _Find a way to return me home_ , the monster demanded. _But I what if I cannot convince Allen to come with us on the Eve?_ She responded in her mind. _You must_ _find a way_ …the monster seemed to plead with her.

Half in a sleep state, she considered a possible avenue she had not considered before. If she could not bring Allen back to the Eve, perhaps she could bring the Enterprise along with her to the destination the monster longed to travel to. She had easily moved through the Enterprise computer systems even while injured. What if she could convince the Enterprise to communicate with the Eve? All she would need to do, would be to link the Enterprise navigational systems with her own on the Eve, and set an automatic course to the monster's home planet. She had to trust that the monster would remember which way to go. She would have to return to the Eve briefly, and unseen to accomplish this, but it was a possibility. And then she and the monster would both have what they wanted.

* * *

"How is she?" Picard asked Doctor Crusher as he entered sick bay accompanied by Deanna Troi. Beverly looked almost gray, as she met them at the entrance of an emergency surgery unit. She was dressed in scrubs and looked frustrated, as she pulled off her surgical cap and tossed it on a nearby counter.

She ran a hand through her tousled hair. Picard for an instant wished that he could touch her, just to reassure her that it would be alright; even though part of him doubted it would be.

"She's going to be alright," said Beverly tiredly. "Claudia nearly crushed her windpipe. I had to bring her into surgery immediately to repair it. But she's going to be alright." She looked at Picard. "It was horrible, Jean-Luc. I witnessed it myself. How can someone be so filled with hate? She is completely possessed with the thought of having Allen. How do we defeat someone like that?" She looked dazed, and he thought she must have been exhausted.

"Beverly, you really need to rest," said Deanna, alarmed by her friend's state of fatigue.

"Were you hurt? How is your head wound?" Picard asked. It was the primary reason he had rushed down to sick bay. He needed to be sure that Beverly was alright.

She shook her head, and turned back to look at Selar who was now being moved to a recovery room. Nurse Ogawa approached her. "Doctor, your shift is ending," Alyssa reminded her. "We can take over here."

Crusher looked as though she was going to protest, but then decided against it. "I could use some rest," she admitted. But she was worried about Claudia coming back. What if she returned and tried to kill Selar just because she knew it would hurt Beverly?

"Beverly, this area is very well secured," said Deanna, sensing her friend's fears.

"We thought so…until she got in here and hurt Selar, we thought so," Beverly said distantly.

"Counselor Troi is right, Doctor," said Picard. "The security staff are aware of the threat, and will adjust accordingly. You need to go home and rest."

* * *

The walk back to Beverly's quarters was tense but uneventful. On the way there, they had parted ways with Counselor Troi and waited for her to disappear into her quarters before continuing on. Stopping outside of her quarters, Picard suddenly felt that he did not want to leave. What if something were to happen during the night? He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, as the security officers stood on either side of the door stood staring across the corridor with careful disinterest.

Beverly stared at him. "Wesley may be awake…" she said trailing off awkwardly, not completely sure why she had just said that.

"Of course," he said, as though her words made complete sense to him. He shifted his eyes up at the ceiling, and clasped his hands behind his back.

She took a deep breath. "Maybe we should check on him together," she suggested.

Picard raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Yes, mm hmm. What a good idea."

Relieved, she turned and the doors opened with a swish. Picard followed her inside quickly.

* * *

Claudia had passed through the hull of the Enterprise back into the Eve just minutes ago, but she had already established a link with the Enterprise navigational systems. She was now the ship once again, and it felt natural. There was some resistance from the Enterprise computer, but as the Eve, Claudia was quite adept at overriding anything troubling the Eve's systems, and was able to simulate what would have been a normal sub-command, sending it to propulsion. Once she had established the link, she would create a hierarchy where the Enterprise's navigational controls were channeled through those of the Eve. When she was through, the Enterprise computer would not be able to tell the difference, and she would be able to order the Enterprise to go anywhere she wanted. Within an hour, the process was done. Just for good measure, she strengthened the physical bond between the Eve and the Enterprise.

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for your patience. I had to re-write quite a bit to fill in some missing material. I'll post some more soon. Peace**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

* * *

Guinan gazed with growing concern at the Eve, which was currently attached to the hull outside Ten Forward. The observation windows had been repaired, as had the fissures in the hull by tiny repair robots. But efforts to actually remove the Eve from the Enterprise hull had been unsuccessful so far. Guinan doubted if anyone had actually tried that hard, since without a ship, Claudia and her venomous monster would be trapped on board the Enterprise. And did anyone really want that to happen?

Her eyes narrowed as she watched. For the last twenty minutes or so, the Eve seemed to be glowing a reddish hue. She walked to the window and peered out. At the point where the two ships had collided, she could no longer distinguish between the hulls of each ship. It was as though the Eve was incorporating the hull of the Enterprise into its own. She had to warn Captain Picard.

She backed away from the window, and then turned around to find an unexpected visitor standing in the otherwise empty Ten Forward. The Orion walked to the bar and leaned his large frame against it, fixing his one eye on her with a slightly dangerous expression. "Do you serve any Orion drinks here?" he asked, sounding somewhat hopeful in contrast to his rough appearance.

* * *

Wesley was in fact awake. He turned as they entered Beverly's quarters. "Mom, you okay? Oh…hi Captain," he said slightly surprised.

Picard nodded. "Hello, Wesley," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "You look well," he observed.

"Um, yes sir," said Wesley. "Please excuse the pajamas, sir, but I was just waiting for Mom to get home before I turned in." Picard shrugged and nodded. He seemed highly uncomfortable, as he glanced around their living space. Wesley wasn't used to the Captain appearing inside his quarters, but somehow he imagined he was actually less nervous than the Captain was at that moment.

Beverly finally spoke. "Thank you for waiting up for me, Wes. We were…Captain Picard just wanted to make sure you were alright, given everything that has happened." She smiled at him.

Wesley looked from his mother to Captain Picard and back again. Something was going on, that much was clear. He knew that the creature from the Eve was on board the Enterprise, so maybe the Captain and his mother were just freaked out about that. He had no plans to leave his quarters until he was scheduled for duty tomorrow anyway. "Thanks…but I'm okay."

His mother smiled tiredly and took off her lab coat, hanging it carefully on a hook on the wall. Wesley raised his eyebrows. His mother usually just carelessly tossed her coat over a chair when she came home, especially when it was late. Something was definitely up. Captain Picard continued to stand quietly.

"Well," said Wesley slowly. "I have some reading to do for class before I go to bed, so…."

"Wesley there's no school tomorrow," said Beverly. "You can read all day. And I don't want you leaving our quarters without you telling me," she added.

Wesley stared at her with a growing sense of dread. Didn't she see he was trying to let them all off of the hook by going to bed and leaving them alone? "Oh…well there's this holo-vid that I have really been wanting to watch. It's about the recent advances in warp propulsion introduced at the last Daystrom exhibition. I was going to watch it in my room, but if you two want to see it—"

"No!" Picard protested a little too stridently. "I mean, perhaps some other time, Mr. Crusher," he said more gently.

Beverly looked at Wesley. "Would you mind watching it in your room?"

"Oh no. Of course not," he said hurrying out of the room. "Good night," he called over his shoulder.

"Good night," they replied in unison.

Beverly sighed. She looked at Picard who was staring at a painting on the wall. He murmured something, then turned to look at her. "I love water color paintings," he said. "Well, some at least…this is quite delicate," he said looking at it again.

Beverly laughed, walking toward him. "I don't know how you can even see it in this light."

He turned to face her. "I can't really…I was trying to think of something to say," he confessed, breaking into a smile.

She laughed again. "Well, my grandmother painted it. And it is quite good. Although I am probably biased." She walked closer to him and touched his arm. "It was lovely of you to walk me back here."

He shrugged not knowing what to say.

"I really _was_ worried about Wesley," she said. "I hope you don't think it was just an excuse to invite you in so I could cajole you into talking about what happened between us earlier in sick bay."

He froze, actually surprised that she had raised what he feared might be a forbidden subject. Instead, she had decided to approach it with humor. What a relief. "Of course you were worried about him, as was I. And I hope you didn't think I came in to stare at you awkwardly in silence when you attempted to talk about what happened earlier," he said.

She broke into a slow smile, which then faded. She looked down. "I'm glad you came in, Jean-Luc. Wesley looks up to you. And it means a lot to me that you care for him too."

He nodded. "I do—perhaps I could work harder to show it."

She shook her head. "What you do already is enough. He admires your every move."

He looked at her, unsure of what to say, and then said, "I should go."

Something in her expression changed almost imperceptibly—was it disappointment? But then she smiled. "Sure," she said softly.

He turned to leave, but then turned back just before he triggered the door opening. "Beverly…."

"Yes?"

"I don't want to leave you—I mean I don't want to leave you and Wesley alone here," he corrected himself quickly. "Not with Claudia loose—not with what just happened to Doctor Selar. I just—perhaps I should stay here."

"Here?" Her eyebrows raised, but a clear look of relief crossed her face. "Okay…." She hooked her thumb toward the couch. "I'll um…get you a blanket and pillow." Suddenly seeming nervous again she hurried into the other room, and not knowing what else to do, he sat down on the couch clasping and unclasping his hands together. He honestly hoped that he had made the right decision.

* * *

Guinan walked slowly toward the Orion. She was familiar with his type, and the most important thing was to show you weren't scared. He had just asked her whether she served Orion drinks. "We serve all _kinds_ of drinks here," she replied calmly. "What I _don't_ serve…is drinks to people who are supposed to be locked up in the Brig."

The big pirate laughed. "I am used to taking what I want, so if I want I will take a drink—later. But for now I am here for business," he said, stomping past her, up to the observation windows.

"And what business would that be?" she asked.

He pointed out the view port. "There!" There was the ship, the ship that carried the bodies of his brethren. As he considered the situation, he remembered he had wanted vengeance against the creature. Well, where was it? Regarding the ship, he considered that it would make an excellent vessel. But stealing it did not appear to be an option. He would need to defeat the creature first.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked Guinan from behind him. "Most people think twice after losing an eye. Most of us so-called humanoids only get two, you know," she reminded him.

Captain Bardi ignored her. "Where are you, beast?" he shouted suddenly. "Show yourself!"

He squinted his single eye as a distortion appeared in the wall, and suddenly a nude human woman stepped out of it. Normally, such a spectacle would not have phased Bardi, as he had seen plenty of naked women during his colorful life. But upon seeing him, she began to laugh, and it sent a chill through him.

"You find me humorous?" Asked Bardi. "You won't be laughing when you see the beast that lurks inside that ship," he assured her.

She stopped laughing abruptly. "I think you are right," she replied. He stepped back in shock as she let out a screech and transformed before his eyes into the fearsome creature he had faced just days ago.

Bardi grabbed the phaser he had confiscated from the guard, as the beast stalked toward him. It flicked its long forked tongue out as if testing the air. Then it let out a thunderous roar directly into Bardi's face.

Guinan had wisely retreated behind the bar, and pressed a button underneath it. "Guinan to Worf."

"Worf here," came the puzzled reply.

"Weren't you supposed to be hunting an Orion?"

"How did you know—?"

"Never mind that," said Guinan. "Just get down here—quickly."

"Is the Orion there?"

"Yes, Mr. Worf. And he has company—it's Claudia. Oh, and bring back-up," she added.

"I do not _need_ back-up," Worf growled.

" _Yes_ , you _do_ ," she said, and then cut the connection.

* * *

She emerged from her bedroom just minutes after disappearing. She was carrying a blanket and pillow. And she was wearing a nightgown. _Oh dear._

How had she changed so quickly? He stood up quickly and took the blanket from her, hugging it to his chest. Oh…the blanket smelled just like her. How wonderful and problematic at the same time. Thank you," he said simply.

She watched him closely. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He swallowed, and kept his eyes fixed on hers. She looked down at her plain grey nightgown. "Jean-Luc," she said laughing as she shoved the pillow at him. "This is just a standard issue nightgown. You would think I was wearing the most revealing—"

He put his hands up, interrupting her before it became worse. "It's alright," he said. "I'm just not accustomed to seeing you this way. I'm sorry," he added, and sat down on the couch heavily. Now at eye level with her legs, legs he had not seen bare in years—legs he dreamed about—he deliberately closed his eyes. The only possible antidote to this moment would have been Wesley Crusher's boring holo-vid—the one he was pretending to watch in his room. _What a clever young man_ , he thought.

"You might as well open your eyes," she said, "because I am still standing here."

He did as she said, and made sure his gaze was high enough to rest on her face. He smiled at her and then put the pillow and blanket on the couch.

"Are you going to be comfortable enough? How are your ribs?"

"Alright. Not too bad," he said. "How is your head? You took a nasty hit."

"Just fine...you could replicate yourself some pajamas, you know," she said as she watched him get under the blanket uncomfortably.

"Oh no," he said with a tight smile. "I'll be fine," he said pulling the blanket up to his chest.

They stared at each other for a few moments. "I'm not tired," Beverly said. "I should be, but I'm not."

Picard nodded. "Me neither," he admitted.

She twisted the fabric of her nightgown in her hand and he actually contemplated ducking his head under the covers.

"We could talk," she suggested.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position, making room for her on the couch. She sat down slowly beside him, and then folded her legs up next to her, adjusting her nightgown over them carefully.

They sat like that for minutes, but they never actually talked. Strangely, the longer they went without talking, the more comfortable they became. Eventually, Beverly reached over to brush her fingers against his hand, and he intertwined his fingers with hers. She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. He tried not to stare at her expression which was very relaxed; almost content, even after such a dangerous day. She fell asleep first, still gripping his hand. And shortly after he told the computer to turn the lights out, he was asleep too.

* * *

Captain Bardi was worried. This was an unusual state of mind for him. Perhaps it was the disconcerting and painful problem of having recently lost sight in one eye. Or perhaps it was the size and unwavering confidence of his foe, as the giant lizard circled him with flashing eyes. Some kind of foamy substance dripped from either side of its powerful jaws. He had been shocked to see the woman transform into this creature. And yet as strange as her transformation had been he realized that he had always thought of the creature as female even before seeing her human form. If he got out of this battle alive, he might seriously consider revising his view of females in general.

The creature hissed at him, as the Orion feinted toward it with a broken wine bottle. It didn't matter that Picard had confiscated his weapons. Of course he would improvise. He remembered that when he had escaped from the Eve, he had done so by stunning the creature by accident on the back of its neck. He doubted that the creature would allow him to jump easily onto its back while he searched for the correct weak spot to hit. So again he would have to improvise.

Just then it sprung at him, and he moved out of the way as it passed, striking out with the broken wine bottle. He grazed its hard armor, and was too slow as it whipped its tail into his legs causing his knees to buckle, sending him to the floor. To a human this might have been enough to cripple him, but Bardi was much larger and tougher than the average human. It still hurt a great deal.

He pushed himself up and onto his feet just as it swiped at him with a large clawed hand. He jumped backwards just out of the way but it pursued him. Unexpectedly it pounced on him and he fell flat on his back, trying to wrestle the thing into submission. It was much too strong. He hit it between the eyes with his heavy forearm before feeling its razor sharp teeth sink into his flesh. He screamed as it gulped attempting to take his entire arm into its mouth. One of its glowing eyes was now staring directly into his own. Screaming again, he dropped the wine bottle, and un-holstered the phaser he had stolen from the guard and shot the creature in the eye that was closest to him. _An eye for an eye_ , he thought, just before it severed his arm, clamping its jaws down viciously, and then rolled into a ball, clawing desperately at its burning eye.

Bardi could take no satisfaction in what he done, because the pain was so overwhelming. Dimly he heard footsteps, coming from the doorway. He was so fearful that someone would ruin his chance to have his revenge that he tried to sit up using his remaining arm. Then without warning he felt pressure on his shoulder and someone was dragging him backward. He struggled to get free.

* * *

"Do not resist, or I _will_ shoot you," deep voice assured him.

Bardi twisted his head up to see the face of an angry Klingon. On a Federation ship? A Klingon dragging him to who-knows-where could never be a good sign. Ignoring the warning, he struggled harder, kicking his legs.

He heard the Klingon shout, and then Bardi felt his body thud against the deck, and heard the sound of a phaser firing, before the room went black.

"I told him I would shoot him," Worf said in a low voice as he stared down at the stunned Orion. One of his officers bandaged the pirate's shoulder, where his arm had been grotesquely chewed. Worf stared at the cluttered surroundings, but the arm was nowhere to be seen, so he concluded the creature must have swallowed it.

Guinan watched from behind the bar. "Watch out, Worf, she's getting up again!"

* * *

At one point Picard awoke to find that Beverly was now leaning against him, and somehow his arm had wound its way around her shoulder. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. It was very dark, and the only light was from the stars streaming from outside the window, and a nearby clock which read 1:30 am. He could tell by the sound of her breathing that she was asleep. With all that had been occurring, how could she sleep so deeply, he wondered? His hand was resting on something soft. He tried to shift his arm, but it was almost completely numb. Mortified, he realized that he was cupping Beverly's breast in his hand. His attempts to further wrest his arm from behind her shoulder had the unintended effect of waking her, but only for a moment, as she grabbed his numb arm and placed it back where it had been, holding on to it tightly, while she mumbled something unintelligible. Within moments she had fallen back into a deep sleep.

Now unable to go back to sleep and preoccupied by where his hand was, he tried to think about anything else, including the holo vid Wesley Crusher had suggested he watch. He could imagine it was fascinating, even exciting…to an engineer.

Resigned to his predicament, because he was unwilling to wake Beverly up, he tried to relax again. Because her hair was so close to his face he told himself it was only natural that he should lay his cheek against the top of her head, gently of course, so as not to wake her. She smelled so wonderful. He began to drift off again. Suddenly his communicator chirped and his head jerked up in alarm. Reflexively he slapped his palm to his chest, finding nothing but the material of his uniform. He glanced around, recalling that he had taken it off and put in on a nearby table. He looked over at it, just out of reach.

"Beverly," he whispered. "Beverly…." She stirred, and then twisted around to look up at him. For a passing moment she appeared surprised to see him, but then smiled drowsily, apparently remembering why he was there. Her eyes dropped to his hand resting on her chest, and she turned to look at him again with a raised eyebrow. "Well, this is awkward," she said, letting go of his arm.

He froze, and for a moment could not tell if she was offended, or just giving him a hard time. He decided it was the latter, as she sat up yawning, and moved off of him at a somewhat leisurely pace. He shook his numb hand as he watched her get up and walk away.

She turned as the communicator chirped again. "Jean-Luc, what are you waiting for?" she asked. _Maybe you were too busy copping a feel_ , she thought with some amusement. "You need to answer that," she said out loud.

He nodded, and moved his stiff body off of the couch, grabbing the communicator. "Picard here."

 _"_ _Captain,"_ came Data's voice. _"We have changed course sir."_

Picard glanced at Beverly, and smoothed his hand over his head. "Why? Get us back on course," he said.

 _"_ _The course change was not intentional,"_ Data said. _"The ship's navigational systems have been, for lack of a better word, corrupted."_

Damn it, was there to be no end to this madness? "You mean a computer virus of some sort…or perhaps some left over Nanites, that didn't want to leave the ship and are now wreaking havoc?"

 _"_ _Unknown at this time, sir. But our course has been laid in, and I am unable to alter it sir."_

"Cut impulse power then."

 _"_ _We are unable to alter course or speed, Captain. We are proceeding at full impulse power toward the Alteiri System on the edge of the Far Rim, Captain."_

"What is our estimated time of arrival in that system?"

 _"_ _Sixty-two hours, 33 minutes, Captain."_

"Data, please wake up Mr. LaForge. I need both of you to work on bringing navigation back under our control. And get me a report on the Alteiri System."

 _"_ _Aye sir,"_ was the reply.

"I will be on the Bridge shortly. Picard out." He looked around to find that Beverly had exited the living room while he was speaking to Data. A moment after he realized she was gone, she emerged from her bedroom holding a red and black uniform. She was now wearing a bathrobe over her sleepwear.

"Here, I replicated you a new uniform. You can wash up and change in the bathroom. You've been wearing the same thing for hours now. If you must be awake, at least make yourself more comfortable. The latest dilemma can wait a few more minutes, Captain."

He took the uniform from her. "Thank you, it's very thoughtful of you." He paused. "But how did you know my size?"

"Captain, I am your physician," she said in a completely serious tone. "And as such, I am completely familiar with your physical dimensions."

His mouth dropped open slightly. "My dimensions?" He felt his face getting hot and was thankful for the low light in the room.

"Yes. Clinically… of course." She sounded innocent enough, but the corner of her mouth twitched as though she were about to break into laughter.

* * *

Suddenly there was the sound of raised voices in the hallway outside the door and they both turned. "I know he's in there. Look, I just need to see him for a few minutes. It's urgent," said a familiar voice.

Picard and Crusher looked at each other in puzzled alarm. He walked over to the door. "Guinan?" he called out.

"Yes, Captain, it's me."

The thought occurred to him that it could be actually be Claudia at Beverly's door posing as Guinan, but he took a chance, going with his gut, and hoped he would not regret it. As the doors swished open, he was further alarmed by the bartender's appearance. She was disheveled and much less composed than he was used to.

"Captain," she said, sounding relieved to see him. "Doctor," she nodded at Beverly, who stared at her with wide eyes.

Picard's expression was not much different. "How the hell did you…"

"How did I know you were here?" He nodded. "Maybe I should explain later," she said. "Right now all you need to know is that Claudia and Worf are in Ten Forward. The Orion is there as well, although he's been severely injured. And we're going to need to remodel Ten Forward...although that can probably wait."

The Captain tapped his communicator. "Picard to Worf." There was no answer. He walked to a computer terminal next to the replicator, and put his palm on it. "Attention, this is Captain Picard. Send three heavily armed security teams to Ten Forward immediately. Bring emergency medical supplies."

Beverly moved to his side and put his hand on her arm. "Jean-Luc, what are you planning? If you're going to Ten Forward, I should be going with you."

He looked at her. "Why, so we are both at risk of being killed?"

"Yes."

* * *

Worf fired at the creature from behind a table as it seemed to continue to regain its strength. The phaser blast hit the creature, and it shimmered red for a moment before the beam absorbed into its scaly armor. His security officers had spread out around the room. He'd only brought three with him, in order to obey the Captain's orders.

Behind a nearby chair he heard the Orion begin to groan. Worf cursed under his breath. He should have used a heavier stun setting. The pirate was now dragging himself over to Worf's hiding place.

"Why do you hide from that beast? I have never known a Klingon warrior to hide before," accused Captain Bardi, using a chair to pull himself to a sitting position next to Worf. He kept his one eye fixed steadily on the lizard as it began to unfurl its limbs and claw itself to its feet. It turned to face them now with a missing eye. "Perhaps you are not a warrior," Bardi taunted.

"Perhaps if you had been better at hiding, you would not have lost your arm," growled Worf.

Bardi growled back at him. "Shut up and give me a weapon," he demanded. Worf growled again, but handed him phaser. They watched as the creature seemed to shrink and change form before their eyes. Four legs were reduced to two, and the green hue and scaly texture of its skin changed to appear softer.

Suddenly Bardi began to shout in his native language. The creature had changed into what appeared to be a crouching Orion. The Orion's naked back was covered in elaborate tattoos. Worf stared at the newly formed Orion. He had seen those tattoos before…on the _Eve_. On one of the dead Orions.

"Vikram!" screamed Captain Bardi. It was his first officer. Nearly seven feet tall in life, Vikram, now missing his head, was somewhat shorter. The very real image of his dead comrade turned to face them. The hulking Orion stalked toward them slowly but steadily.

"That is not Vickram," clarified Worf, as he began to fire on it. "That is Claudia trying to confuse and frighten you." The phaser fire shot straight through the approaching Orion, creating a hole that began to close almost immediately. The Orion continued to stalk toward them, as all of the security officers opened fire.

* * *

"Claudia! Stop!" Allen Harrow had entered Ten Forward and was rushing toward the center of the room.

Slowly the headless Orion turned its body to face him.

"Claudia, it's me you want. Just tell me what to do and leave them alone."

The headless figure changed direction and walked toward him slowly. Harrow stepped closer. "Claudia, it's me, Allen. Are you in there somewhere?"

The headless Orion began to shake with rage. Worf saw Harrow's eyes widen in alarm, just before the large green figure picked Allen up in his arms and tossed him halfway across the room. The man landed with a thud against the wall and slid to the floor unconscious.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Worf tackled the headless giant, ramming into its legs. Once knocked to the floor, it transformed into a giant boa constrictor and began to wrap itself around his legs and body. He swore at it, and pounded its twisting muscular body to no avail. "Shoot it!" he shouted at his officers, as it wound quickly around his chest.

"Sir," said one young ensign running toward him. "We can't get a clean shot, sir."

"Use stun!" he ordered, as it began to squeeze around his neck. They fired, and although the blast hit the snake, Worf staggered back from the force of it, struggling to remain on his feet. "Fire again," he shouted, beginning to have difficulty breathing. The snake twisted around his neck and constricted, seemingly unaffected by the phaser's energy. Not having any other option, Worf bit in to the snake, refusing to let go.

Picard and Doctor Crusher arrived in Ten Forward in a hurry to find that Riker was already present and trying to get a fix with his phaser on the snake that had wrapped itself around the security chief. "Captain," he reported, "The stun setting is not working. It doesn't seem to be deterring Claudia, and it's only weakening Lt. Worf." The security officers now stood by with worried faces, unsure of what to do.

"Did Guinan come and find you?" Picard asked.

Riker nodded. "Yes sir." The bartender entered in through the doors at that moment.

"We can try and pull her off of him," suggested Picard, knowing it really wasn't the solution.

"She's liable to just do what she did to Ensign Doe on board the Eve, sir-risking Worf and anyone who touches him."

Picard knew Riker was correct. He glanced over and saw Guinan was now next to the wall hunched over a still form. It was Allen. He could see that Beverly had noticed, but she was for now focused on Claudia and helping Worf.

Turning his attention back to Worf he could see that the Klingon had fallen to his knees and was losing the battle with Claudia.

Crusher grabbed a tranquilizer from her med kit and looked at Picard. _Good idea,_ he thought. He nodded as she loaded the cartridge into a hypo spray. "Wait!" Picard warned as she began to walk toward Worf. He grabbed her arm. She turned back yanking her arm away from him. "Jean Luc, if we wait any longer he is _going to die_!"

"Doctor, you can't get too close to her," he urged her trying to keep his voice calmer than hers was. "We need something to propel it from a distance. And a phaser can't deliver a tranquilizer."

"Then I don't have the equipment I need here with me," said Crusher, frustrated.

"Here, maybe this will work," Guinan said from behind her. Beverly turned in surprise to find Guinan next to her holding an odd-shaped looking weapon in one hand. She held out her other hand, palm up, looking at Beverly expectantly.

"How many weapons do you have back there?" Riker asked, sounding amazed.

"Oh, a few," Guinan admitted.

Beverly hesitated. "I only have one tranquilizer tube," she said, not wanting it to go to waste.

"I only need one," Guinan said quietly.

Beverly glanced at Picard, unsure if he expected her to entrust this task to the ship's bartender. He did. Picard nodded his assent grimly and trusting them both, Beverly dropped the tranquilizer capsule into Guinan's hand.

In one surprising, fluid motion, Guinan swiftly popped the cartridge into the gun, aimed and discharged it with a hissing sound. The snake jerked once when it was hit and then slowly unraveled itself from Worf's body, dropping to the floor. Worf fell to his knees tiredly. A security medic now rushed to the Klingon's aid, but the snake took no notice. Worf clutched at his neck, but it appeared that he would be alright.

Believing it was safe and before Picard could stop her, Beverly started in Worf's direction, but the snake twisted up straight, its head moving in her direction, blocking her path. It seemed to recognize her. Almost instantly it turned into the giant lizard beast and roared at her, dropping its head as though it was planning on biting her in two.

Picard cried out and wrapped his arms around Beverly from behind. Trying to avoid the monster he twisted his body, throwing Beverly to the ground and falling on top of her as the creature stomped over them in a fury. Riker fired his phaser into the giant lizard's already wounded eye, and it screeched, twisting and shrinking down into the snake again. It slowly began to slither away on the floor. The snake was now headed in Allen Harrow's direction.

"Captain," said Riker, kneeling down next to Picard, who was still trying to shield Doctor Crusher. "She's moving away…" he trailed off as the snake slowly transformed into Claudia. Her body bruised and battered, she dragged herself painfully across Ten Forward toward Allen.

Riker got up and followed cautiously behind her, phaser at the ready. At one point Claudia turned to look up at him and he was shocked to see her left eye was missing, her face bloodied from the recent battle. He could feel a measurable sense of pity forming in his mind and heart as he watched her, despite everything that she had put them through. Harrow lay unconscious, his face ashen and pale, his head propped against the wall. Blood trickled lazily down the wall behind him indicating a head wound. Riker wondered if she had even been aware of what she was doing when she threw Allen into the wall. Now, she seemed to be showing remorse as her obsession lay vulnerable and wounded.

"Jean-Luc, you're crushing me," Beverly said in a muffled voice beneath him. Picard rolled away from her, and forced himself despite the pain into an upright sitting position. She sat up slowly too, and then moved into a crouched position watching along with everyone else as Claudia crawled toward Harrow. He wondered what was going through her mind at that moment.

Picard would have moved sooner, but the monster had re-injured his cracked ribs when it ran over them. Now he sat cross-legged, hesitant to move further in order to avoid the pain. He expected Beverly to try and rush to Allen's aid, but to Picard's surprise, she moved closer to him and leaned against him, putting her arm around his waist gently.

"Are you alright?" she asked him. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she was in shock.

He nodded his head quickly, taking shallow breaths. "Are you? I didn't intend to throw you to the ground like that but it happened so quickly—"

"Jean-Luc, please don't apologize for saving my life," she said. Her voice sounded dazed. He saw her reach around the back of her head and when she brought her shaking hand back in front of her face to examine it, it was slick with blood.

"Hold still," he said, trying to remain calm, and moved around behind her on his knees. He felt the back of her head gently. "You've got a bad cut, Beverly." He waved one of the security medics over to them. The man immediately went to work to staunch the bleeding, but it did nothing to lessen the immense guilt that had returned to cloud Jean-Luc's heart and mind.

"Mild concussion too," Beverly said matter-of-factly, as the medic cleaned the wound quickly and gave her an anesthetic. Not surprisingly Doctor Crusher's tone was completely professional. "It's okay," she said reaching back over her shoulder to take Picard's hand. "We're alive," she added.

Allen Harrow's eyes fluttered and then opened when he felt a tugging at his pant leg. "Claudia," he whispered hoarsely. She was severely injured. Dimly he recalled that she had injured him as well, but he realized he could not fault her. He knew looking at her that she would die soon if she did not get back to the Eve to regenerate her strength.

"Allen," she croaked. "I love you."

"I know Claudia. But you must get to the Eve if you are to survive. You are dying."

"They can't have you," she said stubbornly. "I will kill them first."

"Claudia they don't want me. They hate me. We must get off of this ship…together."

Somehow through all of the blood and gore her spirits seemed to brighten at that. Her remaining eye peered at him grotesquely, but with a clear sense of hope. "You will come with me?"

Allen closed his eyes briefly. "Yes, Claudia…I will." He briefly wondered if she could tell that he was lying, but when he opened his eyes her battered face showed that she still trusted him. "Go to the Eve," he urged her.

Nodding, she crawled away from him. Allen was right. She just needed to sleep and then she would be healed. And then they would be together. Using what remaining energy she had, she phased slowly through the wall and back into the Eve.

* * *

Riker rushed to Harrow's side. "Where did she go? What did you say to her Doctor?" he shouted. He grabbed Harrow's arm and shook him—didn't care at that moment if the man was injured or not.

"I told her—I told her to go back in the ship where she can heal…." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

Riker leaned in closer. "You told her _what_? So she can regenerate and come back and kill us all?" Riker stood up and walked away, to avoid acting on his impulse to throttle Harrow.

"I'll explain later, but I need medical attention."

Riker turned back to him and knelt down. "You'll explain _now_ ," he warned the scientist.

Harrow looked up at Riker then, and it was almost as though he realized then that they needed him, to navigate the lethal mystery that was Claudia. And he could tell by Riker's expression, that the first officer knew this as well.

Riker glanced in back of him. There were too many wounded and semi-wounded scattered around on the floor, and leaning on tables and chairs. "And all because of you, you son of a bitch…" he accused Harrow in a low voice. "Sickbay, this is Commander Riker," he said getting to his feet again. "Beam the entire complement of Ten Forward to sickbay," he ordered.

* * *

Picard stood clasping his broken ribs, glaring down at Doctor Harrow, who was lying in a recovery bed. The man had been injured—some internal bleeding and a severe concussion. Doctor Crusher, having been treated for her own unfortunate head wound assured him that Harrow would recover. But the Captain wasn't so sure how he felt about that fact. Now Harrow was telling them all about some dubious plan to rid themselves of Claudia, but Picard was not to be taken in so easily.

"Are you telling me, Doctor, that by convincing Claudia to return to her ship to 'regenerate', you have somehow saved my crew?"

Harrow looked at him. "Yes," he said simply.

"Won't she simply come back with greater strength than last time, and attack my people again, Harrow?" he asked quietly. Riker could tell by the subdued danger in Picard's voice that the Captain was on the verge of shouting, if Harrow gave him an answer he didn't like.

"Not if we are able to eject the Eve from the Enterprise and destroy it once it is a safe distance away," said Harrow.

"And if Claudia realizes what we're doing? Why wouldn't she?" Riker questioned.

"Can she hear what we're saying now?" Beverly Crusher asked, entering the room. "Is she watching us?"

"No, no," Harrow assured them. "She was so injured that she has to fall into a kind of hibernation state in order to fully recover. Once she's done that, we eject the Eve from the ship—perhaps by way of a repulsor beam, and destroy it. She needs the Eve to regenerate her strength, but if she's weakened, so is the Eve."

"What exactly did you tell her to convince her to return to the Eve without you, Doctor?" Guinan had stuck around, and sat in a chair nearby. She had been silent until now. Somehow, after everything, Picard felt comforted that she was there; that she had helped them. And now she was asking a good question.

Picard glanced at Guinan and then back to Harrow. "Well? What did you tell her?"

"I told her that I would go with her once she was strong enough."

Crusher moved toward him stunned. "Allen, are you insane? Why?"

"It was the only way I could think of to try and stop all of this," he said blandly.

Picard's communicator chirped, and he tapped it. "Picard here."

 _"_ _Captain,"_ came Data's voice. _"Chief Engineer LaForge and I have located the commands which ordered the Enterprise to the Alteiri System. The source of our problem is the Eve, sir. And we have so far been unable to de-program this virus, Captain."_

At the mention of the Alteiri System, Harrow turned his head to look at Picard. There was a distinct look of renewed fear in his eyes.

Picard looked at him pointedly. "Do you have something to add, Doctor?"

"The Alteiri System…that's her home," said Allen. "She's trying to go home."

"And she's taking us with her, Allen," said Beverly. He averted his gaze from hers. She couldn't believe what she had seen in Ten Forward, and what she was now hearing. And she didn't want to hear any more. So she walked out of the room.

Picard sighed, surprised at his own sense of calm. "Well, Doctor Harrow. It seems we are once again at the mercy of your decisions, and Claudia's obsession with you whether we like it or not." He looked at Riker. "Number One, please work on finding a way to extricate ourselves from the grip of the Eve."

"Gladly sir," said Riker, happy to have something constructive to do. He left sick bay without another word.

Harrow looked at Picard who was staring at the far wall deep in thought. Guinan continued to sit almost serenely in the corner. "Captain," said Harrow. "I understand why you don't trust me…."

Picard shifted his cold gaze to Harrow but said nothing, so Allen continued. "After all I have done…all of the lies. But you have to try to implement my plan."

"Didn't you hear me order my first officer to prepare to do just that?" Picard snapped. "That doesn't mean I will start to trust you now, Doctor. Do you think me a fool?"

Harrow smiled weakly. "No, I suppose not. It's no wonder Beverly cares about you. You're honorable, strong…the things I am not. Certainly not anymore…."

Picard stared at him. Was he looking for sympathy? "Doctor do you think I have time to listen to you indulge yourself about all of the possible reasons Beverly no longer has room for you in her life? While the lives of my crew hang in the balance? You are a sad human being, Doctor Harrow. How you came to be that way, I don't know…and I don't care. Should you come to doubt the efficacy of your plan, you let me know. I will be on the bridge."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 _"_ _Captain,"_ Riker's voice announced from the wall communications link. _"We have some good news, sir."_

Captain Picard put his tea down on the floor, and leaned back on the couch in his quarters. He had been ordered to rest, and given the discomfort he was currently in, he hadn't argued. For a few hours since they had last seen Claudia disappear into the Eve, Data and LaForge had been searching for a way to eject the Eve from the hull of the Enterprise, which it had attached to almost parasitically. Could it be that there had been a breakthrough, and they would be able to implement Allen Harrow's plan?

"Oh?" he said, hopefully.

 _"_ _One of the shield grid emitters on the Enterprise hull is located underneath the Eve, sir. Data and Geordi were able to modify it, so that when we activate our deflector shields, we can do so from that single grid emitter, Captain."_

"Creating a propulsive burst from that location…" said Picard, beginning to understand.

 _"…_ _and sending the Eve clear of the Enterprise. Yes sir, we believe it will work."_

"Very good Number One, please let me know when you are ready to proceed."

" _Aye sir. Riker out."_

Picard picked up his tea again, and propped it on the regeneration mesh wrapped around his ribs and chest. The first part of the plan was nearly complete. However, the more he thought about it, the more his conscience bothered him about Harrow's suggestion that he destroy the Eve with Claudia in it. Surely Claudia was responsible for the deaths of so many people. She was more than a genetically engineered marvel; she was a criminal. However, Picard also could not ignore that the years of experiments Claudia had been subjected to, which had encouraged this ever increasing level of violence, were also criminal. Claudia had been at the very least coerced into remaining with the Eve project, to stay with the person she believed she loved, Allen Harrow. At worst, she had been imprisoned.

He sipped at his tea while deep in thought. Harrow. It was difficult for him to identify with someone who had made so many of what Picard considered to be immoral choices. Most infuriating was Harrow's passivity; his unwillingness to act for either the good of himself or others. And in so doing, he had allowed too much evil to take place, things that as far as Picard could tell could not be undone.

Interestingly, the fact that Beverly had once been enamored with Harrow somehow caused a small part of Picard's mind to continue to believe that something about the scientist must be redeemable. Something that Beverly had seen in him. Perhaps Harrow, like Claudia, had also been coerced to some degree into remaining with the project. Despite his firm dislike for the scientist, he admitted that the entire story was all very tragic.

The bottom line was that once the Eve had been set free from the Enterprise, he would have a decision to make. And he now admitted to himself that he had no intention of simply firing on the Eve, destroying the ship and Claudia with it. Although he knew he would not hesitate to kill Claudia to stop her from attacking his crew again, somehow he could not bring himself to fire on her while she was hibernating, asleep and defenseless. So the question remained: what would he do to protect his crew?

Admiral Collins was expecting him to return the Eve to Starbase 14. And part of him now wanted to obey the order, if only to ensure that those responsible for carrying out this project would be exposed and brought to justice. However, the threat to innocent lives was still present wherever Claudia was to be found. What if he could disable the Eve, and then warp the Enterprise away to safety? That would be ideal. Let Collins clean up his own mess. He knew that he would face discipline for disobeying the Admiral's orders, but he also knew that if the project was exposed to the public, Collins and anyone else currently involved in the project would face prosecution for breaking any number of laws governing genetic engineering and the treatment of laboratory subjects.

* * *

He finished most of his tea and then as drowsiness set in, leaned the empty mug against his chest. Eventually he nodded off. He woke up suddenly, feeling the cup suddenly lifted from his grip. He breathed in sharply and reached up trying to grab the cup, opening his eyes at the same time. His hand touched warm skin and he found himself staring blearily into Beverly's face. She was bending over him.

"Hey, it's okay, I was just trying to keep you from spilling tea on yourself," she said, setting the cup down on a nearby table. He sat up awkwardly, still surprised to find her unexpectedly in his quarters. She sat down next to him, encouraging him to move his legs out of the way.

He rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose. "How is your head wound?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

She smiled, seeming pleased that he was concerned. "I have been," she said. "It's funny how a few hours of sleep can do wonders. I feel so much better." She put her hand on his knee continuing to smile at him. In the recent past, she might have removed her hand after a moment to avoid any awkwardness between them, but not now. Something between them had changed, and she seemed to be telling him this by leaving her hand resting on his knee. He dropped his hand down to take hers gently, and their fingers immediately intertwined. It was strange how the simple touch of her hand caused him to feel things he hadn't felt in years. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from hers. Was she feeling the same kinds of emotions he was?

"How are you feeling, Jean-Luc?" she asked, squeezing his hand and trying to catch his gaze again.

He smiled. "Better," he said, trying to sit up straighter so as to look less sickly. "Thank you," he said. He knew she was on the verge of checking his bandages, which made him feel slightly nervous for some reason. Her touch now seemed decidedly less…medical to him. But then she seemed to reconsider and she stood up. "You know we spent most of the early morning fighting Claudia in Ten Forward?"

"Hmm…." he said, wishing he could forget. He wondered momentarily at the way she seemed so positive, even under the circumstances. It reminded him of the uniqueness of their chosen career. Anything could happen while traveling on a starship. And even repeated attacks by an elusive, homicidal, super human shape shifter had to be handled in a way that didn't make one constantly fearful. You had to keep on doing your duty, and if anyone was the perfect example of this principle, it was Beverly.

"So that means it's time for breakfast," she said and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek quickly.

"Oh," he said, unable to keep himself from smiling at the feeling of her lips on his cheek. "Well, I'm not too hungry," he admitted.

She looked down at him slightly disappointed. "Oh. Well I am…do you mind watching me eat?"

He shook his head. "Of course not," he said, happy that she would be staying.

She walked to the replicator. When she returned, to his shock she carried a giant tray covered in fruit, croissants, coffee, tea, orange juice and a variety of jams. She placed it down on the short table with a big smile on her face.

"Beverly…when you said you were hungry, I had no idea," he said with amused surprise.

She took a bite out of a peach and sat down across from him, smiling. "I guess I hoped you would change your mind. Besides, Jean-Luc, if we're going to be seeing more of each other, you are going to have to get used to my appetite." She suddenly stopped as she was cutting a croissant in two, and looked at him. She fell silent, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

He winced as he sat forward, and poured some coffee for her and tea for himself. He was determined not to make the moment more awkward. "Beverly…." her bright eyes shifted to look at him expectantly while she chewed on a croissant. There was a distracting dollop of marmalade on her chin. The more he stared at it, the more he found it oddly endearing. "I hope that it is not too presumptuous of me to say…but I _would_ like to see more of you."

Her eyes widened and she coughed slightly, wiping the errant marmalade off of her chin. He rubbed his hands over his knees anxiously, suddenly feeling sweat on his back. "I mean…I meant, I would like to spend more time with you." She stared at him. "I didn't mean to imply that I wanted to actually _see_ more of you…of your-"

 _Oh, he's actually making it worse_ , she thought. She held up a hand. "Jean-Luc, please, stop…I understand."

He shrugged, embarrassed. He peeled a banana, eating it absently while staring at the floor. Finishing it quickly, he began drinking some orange juice.

"I would like to spend more time with you too," she said after a few moments. "And I don't mind adding that sometimes when you are not around, I think about you. And, if spending more time with you goes well… maybe seeing more of each other would be the next natural step."

Picard choked on his orange juice at that moment, and she began to laugh. He wondered if she had said that just to see his reaction. He coughed, and wiped juice off of his chin before breaking into laughter himself. "Ow," he said, grabbing his healing ribs, and then continued laughing.

She sipped her coffee hiding a grin behind the cup. "As much as I hate to see you in pain, I love to see you laugh. It doesn't happen enough."

He looked at her, and felt compelled to keep doing so. He realized that for years he had never actually allowed himself to fully gaze at her when she was looking back at him, and it seemed that he hadn't truly seen her before now. It was a very powerful feeling. "You are an incredible person," he said impulsively.

She blushed. "What a lovely thing to say," she said softly, taking another sip of coffee.

"It's true," he said. He got up and stretched his shoulders out painfully. She put her cup down and smiled up at him. He walked closer to her. "I should have told you that before…many years ago in fact."

"You didn't feel free to. Let's not dwell on the past. It will just make us both sad. What matters now is that you feel you can talk to me," she said. She reached out to him, and he took her hand. She tugged him toward her lightly but insistently, and he complied. She tilted her head upward and he bent down to kiss her carefully on the lips. She let go of his hand and put her palms on either side of his face bringing him closer as they kissed. They didn't immediately stop when they heard the communications link beep. It was actually the shift under Picard's feet that they both felt. She let him go, and saw the same alarm in his eyes that she felt.

"What was that?" he asked, moving toward the computer along the wall. He glanced back at Beverly, who had risen to her feet. "We're in warp," said Picard, very sure of the familiar feeling he was experiencing. Because of Claudia's interference they had been locked on course to the Alteiri System at the static speed of full impulse, but now they were in warp. He placed his palm on the flat computer terminal. "Picard here, what is it?"

 _"_ _Captain,"_ said Commander Data. "We have gone into warp—"

"I know," he snapped. "Why? Did we break free of the Eve's influence?"

 _"_ _No sir,"_ said Data. _"We are still on course to the Alteiri System. But we are now proceeding at warp eight to that designation. Lt. Commander LaForge has been unable to decrease our speed, or alter it in any way. At this velocity, we will reach the Alteiri system in 10 hours, Captain," said Data._

"I'm on my way," he said, cutting the link.

Picard turned back to Beverly. He tried to keep his face from conveying the worry he felt. "I have to go," he said tensely.

"I see that. Are you going to change first?" she asked, standing up.

He looked down at his loose clothing. "Oh. Yes," he said dully.

She pulled her loose sweater around her. "Alright. Well, I'll be going then," she said. "Wesley will be getting up soon. And who knows," she shrugged. "Maybe I'll even have a second breakfast." She forced a smile and gave him a little wave as she started to walk away.

"Wait, Beverly…" he said, walking toward her. She turned then, looking suddenly very vulnerable and worried. He hugged her to him tightly. "Thank you for breakfast," he said. She returned his embrace and they stood that way for a few moments. "I will see you later," he said.

She pulled away from him. "Right. Good luck," she said.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"Report, Mr. Data," Picard said striding onto the bridge. He sat down in his command chair, as Data exited it. Commander Riker, he knew would be off duty at this point. He needed his officers as rested as possible.

"Captain," said Data. "We are currently traveling at warp 8.75 on the same course heading."

"We've increased speed?" he asked. Data nodded. He tapped the controls on his armrest. "Security, please locate Dr. Harrow and escort him to the bridge."

Data tilted his head. "You are presuming that Claudia is responsible for the increase in speed, Captain."

"Yes," said Picard tightly. "What other possible explanation would there be?"

Data nodded. "Given the circumstances, sir, the evidence would suggest that the Eve is responsible for our increase in speed."

"What did you find out about the Alteiri System?"

"The Alteiri System consists of a large red giant star surrounded by six uncharted planets, four of which are Class M worlds capable of sustaining humanoid life. The remaining two are uninhabitable gas giants."

"Now that we know Claudia is bringing us to her home world, could you narrow down which of these planets she originates from? Doctor Harrow seems to think that she is now reverting to a species of giant reptile, found on one of these worlds."

Data paused momentarily. "It is probable that Claudia originated from the second closest planet to the red giant star. It is a mostly tropical environment, with abundant plant and animal life, and could sustain such a species."

Data's eyes raised as Harrow walked on to the bridge escorted by two security personnel. He had a bandage on the back of his head. Picard got to his feet, as Data took his position at ops. "Doctor," he said gesturing at the forward view screen. "As you can see, we are now traveling at warp speed. We will be in the Alteiri system in ten hours. Any idea how a hibernating Claudia could have caused this change?"

Harrow's eyes widened. He shook his head back and forth slowly. "She must have…she must have awakened."

Picard sat back down in his command chair and folded his arms over his chest, looking down at the deck. "And so…Claudia knows all about your plan, I would guess. No doubt she is quite upset to learn you lied to her, Doctor." He raised his eyes to look at Harrow. "One can only guess how she will react."

"She may leave us alone…she only wants to go home now."

"No…she wants to go home, and she is determined to bring you with her, Doctor. And since you have promised to go with her, I think we can expect she will react as she always does when she doesn't get her way—with violence."

Harrow looked almost frozen. "What are you going to do?"

"We will follow your plan at least partially, Doctor. I have no choice but to eject her from my ship and try to disable her if possible."

"You're not going to destroy her?" Harrow now seemed extremely worried.

"I will do what is _necessary_ ," snapped Picard.

"Firing weapons while the Enterprise is in warp drive is not recommended, Captain," said Data from ops.

"Noted," he said. "Mr. LaForge?"

" _Yes, Captain?"_ came Geordi's voice.

"What exactly is the deflector shield pulse going to do?"

 _"_ _If all goes well sir, it should send a powerful pulse of gravitons from the shield grid emitter on the hull beneath the Eve, into the Eve forcing it away from the Enterprise. The problem is…."_

"The problem is what?"

 _"_ _We didn't anticipate that we'd be in warp when we tried this out, Captain. As you know…in a warp field all bets are off, sir."_

Picard took a deep breath. "Commander I need you to implement the deflector shield pulse on my command."

" _Yes sir,"_ said Geordi.

Picard addressed the officer at tactical. "Lt. Volkov, I need you ready to fire on my command, and quickly."

"Yes Captain," the young woman said.

"Geordi, stand by to activate the graviton pulse in five, four, three, two one…mark."

 _"_ _The pulse is away, Captain,"_ Geordi confirmed.

The bridge shook violently for ten seconds, and there was a wrenching sound.

"Captain, the Eve has been successfully propelled from the Enterprise," said Data. "But it appears to be using the warp field around the Enterprise to maintain a consistent velocity.

"Can we drop out of warp?" Picard demanded. If only they could change speed or direction, they could rid themselves of this threat.

"Negative, sir," reported Data.

"Target the Eve's propulsion system," Picard ordered. "Fire photon torpedoes at will."

* * *

"Firing, Captain," said Volkov from above him. "Direct hit, sir," she cried out. "The Eve's starboard engine is disabled, Captain."

"Fire again," he said gripping the arms of his chair.

"Captain," shouted Volkov suddenly. "The Eve is coming back in this direction!"

"She's…she's changing shape!" Harrow shouted gazing in horror at the view screen. Sure enough the screen showed the Eve's sleek shape narrowing and elongating as though it were a spear. It sped back toward the Enterprise.

Picard stood up and grabbed Harrow by the arm pulling him back into Riker's seat. "Attention Enterprise crew, this is Captain Picard. Brace for impact," he said falling back into his chair just as the impact shook the ship. The ship lurched suddenly to the left, and the view screen no longer showed the stars streaming by.

"Warning," reported the computer. "Starboard nacelle has been compromised. Depolarization has occurred…depolarization has occurred."

"We're out of warp," Picard breathed. "Dammit, she's hit the starboard nacelle." Without both nacelles operative, the nacelle structure had depolarized bringing the ship violently out of warp.

Moments later, the ship was struck again.

"Hull breach decks 30 through 37," reported the computer. "Intruder alert."

The lights dimmed on bridge. "Geordi, report!"

The reply channel was static-filled, and they could hear screams in the background. "Captain, we are evacuating main engineering. Close off access to the warp core," he shouted to his staff. "That ship," he coughed violently. "That ship just took out six of our decks. I don't know how many people we just lost, Captain. The core should be okay…."

"Just get your staff out and to safety, Geordi," shouted Picard, as the ship shook with another explosion.

"Captain," came a security report from deck 32. "There's a ship in here. We're trying to put the fire out so that we can reach any survivors."

"Crewman, get out of there," Picard shouted. "Do not approach that ship!" There was a pause and then the sound of screaming could be heard along with phaser fire.

"Attention, this is Captain Picard. All personnel are to evacuate decks 30 through 37 immediately. Use auxiliary transporters as needed. It is imperative that no one approach the ship that has attacked us and is now inside our ship. It is imperative that you remain calm in order to complete evacuation procedures immediately."

The bridge now bathed in the glow of the red alert, he slumped back in his chair as the sirens continued to blare.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Status, Data," Picard said, getting up wearily and walking toward ops. Data turned slightly at his post.

"Captain, we are presently drifting in an uncharted sector of space. Few if any in the Federation have explored this region, sir."

"And our impulse engines?"

"Damaged, but functional sir. The third impulse engine located in the star drive was particularly damaged during the impact with the Eve. However, it is our warp nacelles which are the problem sir. Unless we are able to repair the starboard nacelle, which has been heavily damaged, and realign them we will be unable to achieve warp speed."

Picard sighed. "But with the level of repair we are dealing with here, we should reserve our use of the impulse engines. I have no doubt that Geordi will get us fixed up. But my other concern is that Claudia will somehow be able to send us careening toward the Alteiri System again." He scratched his chin.

"Captain…if I might make a supposition: it is highly probable that as the Eve penetrated the outer and inner hulls of the Enterprise and is now somewhere in the interior of our ship, she is a highly damaged vessel, sir."

Picard leaned on the back of Data's chair. "So the good news is, assuming the Eve is as disabled as I agree she must be," said Picard, "Claudia has been thwarted, at least for now into dragging us back to her home planet. The bad news is that we just lost innocent lives and our ship is crippled. And…of course, Claudia is once again loose on my ship." A thought occurred to him then, and he turned as though he planned on leaving the bridge, just as Data's hands began to fly faster over his control panel.

"Sir...unfortunately, that is not the only problem," said Data.

Picard turned back around slowly. "Data, are you telling me that there is actually more bad news?"

Data looked at him. "Yes, Captain. If you switch on the main view screen I will explain."

Picard nodded at Lt. Volkov and she switched on the main viewer.

Picard stepped back from the screen, feeling he was too close. "Magnify," he barked. Oh no. "Data…is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, sir," said Data. "It is a super-giant star approximately twenty times the mass of the Earth's sun. It appears to be at the final end stage of its stellar evolution."

"It is collapsing then," Picard said dully.

"Rapidly sir."

"Can the sensors tell how close it is to implosion and super nova?"

Data's fingers danced over the panel again. "I estimate eight hours before a final reaction causes the star to collapse, creating a type II super nova, and sending a shockwave through our region of space, Captain."

"Estimated velocity of a shockwave of that magnitude?"

"Approximately 60,000 kilometers per second, sir. And we are .0000005 parsecs away from the collapsing star, Captain."

* * *

At most they would have several seconds to escape? Picard felt his stomach drop not insignificantly, and he was suddenly glad he hadn't eaten more for breakfast. "That is not nearly far enough," he declared, backing up while keeping his eyes fixed on it. Really…what were the odds? The fact is he did not want to hear them. "Data…do you recommend that we use our impulse engines to put some distance between us and this star, while we repair the warp nacelles?"

Data turned completely around in his chair. "The amount of energy required to complete repairs could defeat the purpose, so to speak of traveling away from the star at sub-light speeds. My recommendation would be 'no' Captain. Our focus should be regaining warp drive."

"We need warp drive; that much is clear. Or we will never make it out of this sector alive," said Picard. Silently he realized that they would have to defeat Claudia before warping away, or else making it out of the sector alive would somehow be only half the battle.

He turned back to the command center and for the first time noticed with some annoyance, that Allen Harrow had disappeared. Again. _"How convenient for you Dr. Harrow, to be able to bring a pestilence upon my ship while you disappear in retreat as you desire,"_ he thought angrily. _"Are you ever going to stop running from the truth of what you have done?"_

* * *

 **Minutes later…**

Picard almost literally ran into Commander Riker and Geordi LaForge on deck 38. Geordi's uniform was stained with black burn marks and blood. His face was dotted with many little cuts and his usually jovial face was tense and his forehead was creased with anger.

Picard briefly gripped Geordi by the shoulder tightly, looking into his face. He was glad that LaForge was physically alright. But at that moment he couldn't think of a thing to say. He knew what Geordi was going through—of course Picard was going through the loss of his crew as well. But being there and seeing it happen- he had experienced it in the not-so-distant past, and he knew that Geordi had already passed quickly through the first stage of shock and had already become angry.

Riker looked at the Captain and LaForge. They had all come to deck 38 for a reason. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

Geordi nodded. "We need to blockade the area immediately and keep the Eve closed in—and if possible Claudia too."

"Can it be done in our current state?" Picard asked. "And can we complete our repairs while blocking off these levels?"

"Yes sir, we'll get it done. We can program remotes to complete the most dangerous repairs in order to avoid sending too many technicians in where Claudia can harm them. And we can have a force field up soon enough. The question is, will it stop her?"

"I don't know," said Picard. "But it is the very least that we should be doing." He took a deep breath. "How many people do you estimate we lost when we were hit?"

LaForge shrugged and looked away. "We are still assessing the damage, sir. We lost at least ten on deck 36, main engineering. Given the damage to the other decks, I would estimate we lost almost fifty people, Captain."

They fell silent for a few moments, thinking about the lives lost, damage that could not be quantified.

Picard then explained the problem of the collapsing star, while the two men stared at him with visible expressions of shock.

LaForge looked as though he was going to collapse from mental exhaustion. Riker shook his head, running a hand over his beard. "And we won't have warp capability until we fix the starboard nacelle. Not to mention that the damage to the hull and interior is considerable, sir. We've got temporary shielding covering the damage for now as we begin repairs."

Picard looked at Riker. "Will I want you to take a shuttlecraft outside and assess the damage. We need to be up and running with warp capability in less than six hours." Riker nodded. "And be careful," said Picard. "We can't afford to lose anyone else."

Riker walked quickly away and Picard turned to LaForge who seemed to be staring off into the distance. "Commander…it goes without saying we are going to be counting heavily upon you to get our warp capability back before that star goes supernova. That is your main priority." He clapped Geordi on the shoulder. "I know it will be difficult for you to focus…in light of everything that has happened."

"Don't worry sir, you can count on me," Geordi said with conviction.

Picard smiled grimly. "First things first then," he said more gently. "Get yourself to sick bay for a proper examination and then report back for duty."

LaForge's forehead creased in objection. "But sir, I'm okay—"

"Geordi…please report to sick bay." LaForge nodded reluctantly, and Picard watched as the engineer walked quickly away.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

If Beverly Crusher had reached her mental, emotional and physical limits of treating wounded and dying crew members, she never let on. Alyssa Ogawa held a wounded engineer still while Crusher tried to get his vitals stabilized. With burns on forty percent of the man's body she had to act quickly. Ever since the Enterprise had been rocked by explosions just over forty minutes ago, her brain had been on automatic pilot. She tried not to think too much about the type of wounds she was seeing. The worst were the radiation burns presented by the few crew members who had been working in the nacelle tube when it had been struck. She knew from the reports that a ship had flown clean through the starboard nacelle and then had careened at an angle crashing through the hull in the engineering levels until it had come to a stop somewhere on deck 32.

Of course she knew the attacking vessel could only be the Eve, which meant that Allen had been wrong. Claudia had known of the plan to extricate her ship from the hull, or at the very least she had been awake enough to respond by boomeranging back into the Enterprise after being set adrift. She wasn't supposed to have been awake. She was supposed to have been in hibernation. Had Jean-Luc fired upon the Eve? Whatever he had done, he must have only had a few seconds to decide. She hoped that he was holding up alright.

She turned at the sound of Geordi's voice. "Hey Doc," he said, walking toward her. "Captain Picard said I had to come see you. I'm fine though…see?" he said stretching his arms wide and forcing a smile. She could see that he was not fine, but was in fact tormented by what had occurred. She knew that he must have witnessed the deaths of at least some of his staff, and his expression was unable to hide this awful reality. When time permitted, he would need to go and see Counselor Troi.

"Alyssa," she said. "I will see to Commander LaForge. I have a feeling he is on something of a time limit."

* * *

Wesley wanted to return to duty. His mother had said it was too dangerous. Yes, he was just sixteen years old, but so what? He was completely capable of performing his duties as well or better than most people of his rank. He seriously considered disobeying his mother's orders to stay in their quarters. He wanted to help. He wondered if Captain Picard would ever overrule his mother, if Wesley was needed on the bridge. He winced, just thinking about it. Probably not a great idea, he decided. When he had heard the Captain order everyone to brace for impact and at that moment he had wished he could have been on the bridge more than anything else.

He and his mother had just sat down to breakfast. While she was setting up the table she recounted what had happened in Ten Forward earlier that morning. She mentioned twice that Captain Picard had saved her life. He knew she was leaving out most of the details so as not to upset him. But what really upset him was that he had not been there. He hadn't been part of the fight.

He knew she was not revealing all of what had been happening. But she had told him to be wary of people acting strangely, telling him it could be Claudia he was talking to, when he least expected it. If she hadn't been so serious about it, he might have thought she was pulling his leg. But after her description of what had happened in the early morning hours, he took everything she said to heart.

They had been discussing the fact that the ship had just unexpectedly entered warp a few minutes earlier, and that had been when it had happened. The Captain's announcement had come just seconds before the whole ship had been shaken by a great impact. Explosions could faintly be heard on the decks below in the star drive section. Still in her civilian clothes, his mother had rushed off to sick bay, but not before warning him not to leave. Now at a loss for what to do, Wesley roamed their quarters listening to music to try and distract himself from feelings of uselessness.

He walked back into his bedroom and glanced with bored amusement at the holo vid sitting on his night stand. He smiled wider, remembering the look on Captain Picard's face. At times like this, catching up on the latest in warp theory might be the only thing possible to distract him. He grabbed the vid, and held it for a moment, then glanced out the view port.

He blinked as the image from a disturbing dream he had had the night before came back to him. It was a recurring a dream, but one he hadn't had in years. In his dream, he had seen the monster with the green eyes. It had been staring in through the view port at him while he was in bed. It had been just as he had seen it in his dreams as a young kid, except this time, one of the glowing green eyes had seemed much dimmer this time; faded almost.

He broke out of his reverie, hearing footsteps out in the main living area. Frowning, he tossed the holo vid onto his bed and walked out.

* * *

Counselor Deanna Troi had just come from an exhausting session with Worf, whom she had finally cleared for duty so that he could be released from sick bay. The medical personnel rushing around helping the newly wounded had indicated what a service she was doing them by ridding them of the Security Chief, who was apparently driving everyone crazy. Judging by the dirty looks some of Beverly's staff was giving him as he exited; she guessed he might go down as one of the worst patients in Enterprise history.

Prior to clearing Worf she had spent a good amount of time counseling family members of those who had lost their lives, and trying to connect survivors to their distraught families and friends. Now, she felt her feet dragging as she walked slowly toward her quarters. As she came closer to Beverly's quarters, she sensed immediately that something was wrong. She felt a pain in her heart and mind, and mindlessly began to run toward the unknown.

* * *

"Mom?" Wesley came out, and broke into a smile upon seeing his mother. He hadn't been expecting to see her for some time. "I didn't hear you come in. What's up?"

Her back was turned to him, and she turned around then with a quick smile. He could see she had been rummaging through one of her spare med kits. "Oh hi, Wesley. I was done with my work, so I thought I would come back here and spend some time with you. You know I haven't seen enough of you lately with everything that we've been through." She frowned and continued to look through the med kit. As unorganized as his mother seemed to him sometimes in their home life, she always knew what she was looking for in her med kit. So it seemed just a little bit odd to him.

"You're done? Really? I thought…well I thought with all of the casualties you wouldn't be off duty for hours," he said.

She shrugged, and then smiled down at something in her hand, apparently finding what she had been looking for. She turned around then to smile at him. _Man, she's acting weird_ , he thought. "Come here son," she said, and something in her tone made him take an involuntary step backward.

"Mom…I've got a lot of school work to get through," Wesley said, now knowing full well that this wasn't his mother. It must be Claudia. But what the hell did she want with him?

She held up the empty hypo cartridge in her hand and grinned at him. "Come on, Wes. It's been so long since we've really _talked_. Come, and sit down." There was a strange greenish glint in her eyes then, and his tongue seemed to freeze in his mouth from some long buried fear.

He glanced around the room, trying not to appear frantic. But he was. What could he use as a weapon? He licked his dry lips as he watched this…this person who stood before him. She looked exactly like his mother, but she was not his mother. Not even close.

"Look, son," she said. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way…please don't be difficult."

Wesley tried to slow his breathing down by breathing in through his nose carefully. "What do you want?" he asked.

She picked up a used butter knife left over from breakfast, and examined it up close. Then after sniffing it oddly, she ran it over her tongue, and her eyes glinted again. "Have you ever been made to suffer by someone you thought loved you? It is the most horrible feeling. And humiliating. If I could make my enemies feel one fraction of what I have felt, I will be happy. Don't you see?" she hissed at him.

"Look," said Wesley putting his hands up. "Whatever has been done to you—I'm sorry for that. But _I_ didn't do anything to you. Please…." He grasped the back of the chair, as she advanced on him.

"You think you know, little boy. But you have no clue. Not yet…." She took the butter knife and poked it into her wrist, and a shimmer of scales appeared over skin. The disguise that had been Beverly Crusher faded and a woman covered in reptilian scales took her place. The woman took the empty hypo spray cartridge and held it to her wrist. A white foamy substance flowed from her wrist into the tube and she held it up to show Wesley.

* * *

"The Monster's life blood. The humans call it venom," she said walking toward him around the table. He could see clearly now that she was missing an eye. Like in his dream. "Many years ago I used this to blind Picard…and more recently the stupid Orion. You see, it is poison. But depending on the amount I administer, death will be fast…or ssslow," she hissed, and broke into laughter. She plugged the cartridge full of venom into the hypo spray and waved it in his direction as she walked closer.

No longer thinking of escape, Wesley picked up the chair his hand had been resting on and swung it in her direction, hard. She hadn't been expecting it and was only able to spring partially out of the way, and the chair connected with her scaly shoulder. She screamed, and swung her long whip-like tail at him, cutting into his forehead. Wesley put his hands up defensively as he stumbled backward.

Springing toward him, she grabbed his head and slammed him down on to the table. He struggled, but she was too strong. A clawed hand pressed down on the side of his face, holding him still, as she wielded the hypo. "No!" he shouted, and tried to kick at her. He felt the hiss of the hypo against his neck, and then he dropped to the floor feeling as though he were becoming paralyzed. He could no longer move his limbs.

He could still hear her talking, hissing things to herself, as she dragged him across the floor and out of his home.

* * *

Deanna came around the corner just as she saw Claudia emerge from Beverly's quarters. She was dragging poor Wesley by his elbow. "Stop!" Deanna screamed, skidding to a stop herself. Claudia paused, snarling at Troi and then grabbed Wesley and tossed him almost effortlessly over her shoulder, before disappearing in almost in the blink of an eye around the corner.

By the gods…she had to do something. "Troi to Captain Picard…Claudia has Wesley!"

* * *

"Beverly," said Troi, walking up behind her friend a few minutes later. She tried to keep her mind and voice even so as not to alarm Beverly. "Captain Picard has asked to see you."

Crusher turned from her patient with a tired, annoyed expression. "Sorry, Deanna, but Captain Picard's timing is not the best right now. Can you tell him I'm with a patient?"

Dr. Selar stepped beside Doctor Crusher after exchanging a look with Troi. Selar appeared to be healing well, and certainly if she was experiencing any discomfort, the Vulcan was unlikely to complain. "Doctor, Captain Picard is waiting for you in your office. Perhaps you should go and meet with him. I am quite capable of finishing with this patient," she assured Crusher.

Beverly exhaled loudly and ran a hand through her tousled hair. "Fine, I'm coming."

She glanced at Troi and noted her somber expression as they walked toward her office. "Deanna, what's wrong? What's going on? Is Jean-Luc alright?"

Deanna smiled tightly and just nodded, gesturing for Beverly to walk in before her. Shaking her head in confusion, Beverly walked in to find Picard standing in the middle of her office. His features were as somber as Deanna's and she could tell immediately by his expression that it had to do with Wesley.

"Jean-Luc, what's happened? Is my son alright?" she walked toward him, knowing that the answer must be no, if they were here to talk to her. And yet no one had said anything yet.

"Beverly," he said taking one of her hands in both of his. "We're going to find him, I promise you."

She stared at him as though he were speaking another language. "What do you mean you're going to find him? When I left my son he was in our quarters. In our _home_. Are you trying to tell me that he's missing?" She shook her head and then put her hand to her forehead looking confused.

"Yes, Beverly. Troi saw him. Claudia took him."  
She wrenched her hand from Picard's grasp and turned on Troi. "You saw him, Deanna? You saw him and didn't say a goddamn word to me about it when you came into sick bay?"

"Beverly," said Picard. "I ordered Counselor Troi not to say anything until—"

"Jean-Luc, just…stop talking! Can't you see the longer we talk, the more likely my son is being—being tortured by that…bitch? I've got to go and find him."

"Yes," said Picard with quiet resolve. "We're going to find him together," he promised. But silently much more than a sliver of doubt entered his mind as to whether saving Wesley Crusher was possible.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

"Captain," came Lt. Worf's gruff tones through the communicator.

"Yes, Lieutenant? I have Doctor Crusher with me," he said. It was a warning to the security chief-Picard wanted him to use his discretion, if the news was not good.

There was a pause. "Captain, we found Ensign Crusher's communicator. On deck 38, sir. And sir…I believe that Claudia is now disguised as me."

Next to him he saw Beverly double checking her phaser with a completely focused expression and he raised an eyebrow. He had never seen her quite like this before. "Decks 30 through 37 were supposed to be protected by a force field," she muttered to herself. "How did they get through? But at least now we know where she has taken my son."

"The Eve," said Picard.

* * *

 **A few minutes earlier...**

Claudia halted at the edge of the force field, the slack body of Wesley Crusher hanging over her shoulder. The Crusher child was not heavy, and she could carry him to the end… as far as it would take to have Allen back. They would pay for brainwashing him, making him turn against her. The problem was this force field, created for her benefit she knew. She could turn to energy and pass through the field quickly as she had done in order to find Wesley Crusher in the first place, but bringing the boy back through might kill him—and she did not want him to die just yet. As long as he was alive and in her custody he was valuable to her.

She would have to slip through. There were security checkpoints where technicians were entering and exiting the force field in order to make repairs. She stopped and lay the boy down on the deck. He remained unconscious. This was fortunate for him, because if he was awake, this would be very painful for him, no doubt. She picked him up again as though embracing him and slowly his body melded with her own until he disappeared. Then her features and body transformed smoothly into an appropriate disguise. Not wasting any time she walked to the closest security checkpoint.

Ensign Wilson turned at the sound of heavy footsteps. He straightened at attention, surprised to see Lt. Worf show up. He frowned. "Is something wrong, sir?"

Worf glowered down at the Ensign. "No. Stand aside," he rumbled.

"Anything I can help you with sir? Not much going on out here. I would be glad to assist you in there if necessary."

Wilson would never have thought it possible, but Worf seemed even more hostile than normal. The more he stared at Worf, the more he wondered if it was possible the shape shifter had gotten loose. What if this was the imposter and he was the one to let her go? His eyes narrowed. He stood aside slightly to allow Worf to put his palm on the security panel, which would lower the field. But Worf just stood there, seeming to wait for Wilson to give him access. Wilson placed a hand on his phaser, but he was too slow. Claudia slammed her fist into the young man's face, and as he slid to the floor she grabbed his palm and placed it on the panel, dropping the force field. Claudia, still appearing to be Worf stepped through, looking around cautiously before racing to her destination.

* * *

Worf stepped forward as they approached. "I was waiting for you, before proceeding Captain. Doctor," Worf said, nodding to her. "Do not fear...we will find Wesley."

Crusher said nothing and instead seemed to stare through him into the force field as she approached the checkpoint with Captain Picard.

"What happened here?" Picard demanded halting in front of Worf. The blue force field appeared completely intact and undisturbed. He felt a swell of rage as Worf handed him Wesley's communicator badge. "How did they get through?"

Worf waved at a young ensign nearby. "Wilson," he said. "Come here!" The ensign approached quickly but with a sheepish expression. There was a mottled bruise over his right eye.

"Let's have your report, Ensign Wilson," said Picard curtly. Beverly shifted impatiently next to him.

"The shape shifter must have been disguised as Lt. Worf, Captain," said Wilson. "It fooled me, sir. Sirs..." He corrected himself glancing at Crusher nervously.

"Did the shape shifter have anyone with it?" Picard asked. They hadn't even had time to announce to the crew that Wesley had been abducted. Wilson frowned, apparently working hard very hard to remember something that had happened just five minutes earlier.

"No sir...it was alone. And it used my palm print to drop the shield."

Picard glared at him, trying with difficulty to resist the urge to take out his anger on the young officer. Instead he turned away from Wilson, addressing Worf. "Has Commander Riker returned from his shuttle inspection yet?"

"No sir."

Picard nodded. "Fine. Mr. Data can fill him in when he returns. You are coming with us, Mr. Worf."

For a moment Worf looked at Dr. Crusher and back to Picard with alarm. Perhaps Worf thought the Doctor was too close to the matter to remain clear-headed and objective when searching for her son. Perhaps Worf was right. Normally Picard would have seriously considered ordering an officer whose emotions threatened to compromise his or her duties to go off shift. But it was possible that they only had seven hours left to live-all of them. How could he deny her the chance to save her own son? And, she wasn't likely to obey an order from him that she believed put Wesley at greater risk, anyway. Picard was if anything, realistic. So he simply closed his eyes briefly and shook his head at Worf as if to say "let it go."

Seeming to understand, Worf pressed his lips together and placed his hands behind his back, nodding slightly.

A moment later a strange hissing noise emanated from the ship-wide intercom and they all snapped their heads up to listen attentively.

* * *

 _"Attention crew of the Enterprise. I have the Crusher boy with me."_ Beverly grabbed Picard's arm at the sound of Claudia's menacing voice. He glanced at Beverly but she was staring at the deck as she clutched his arm so hard that her fingertips were white. It made him angry to see her looking so lost. _"He has been poisoned. You will deliver Allen Harrow to me in one hour, or the boy dies."_ There was a clicking noise and the connection was cut. Beverly let go of Jean-Luc and gripped her med kit.

Picard patted the phaser at his hip. "Let's go," he said stepping toward the security console. He raised his palm up, just as he heard shouting behind him.

"Wait!" They all turned in alarm. It was Allen Harrow, and he raced up to them out of breath. "I'm coming with you," he said stopping next to them.

Beverly looked like she was about to say something to him but reconsidered.

Picard walked over to Allen and looked probingly into his eyes. "You heard what Claudia just announced? She wants to exchange Wesley for you."

"Yes…I heard her."

"I am telling you right now, Doctor Harrow," Picard said firmly. "If you to come with us, I will not allow you to jeopardize the only goal here, which is to bring Wesley Crusher back alive. Any vendetta you may have against Claudia will have to wait. Understood?"

Harrow nodded slowly. "Yes, but she wants me. I may have to give her what she wants—hand myself over." He glanced over at Beverly, who tilted her head slightly, watching him.

Beverly sighed and shook her head. "Allen, as angry as I am with you right now, you know that I would not ask you to give yourself up to Claudia. So if this is some last ditch attempt to impress me…."

"No…I—I just think we should prepare for any contingency, that's all." said Harrow.

Picard shook his head. "No. We aren't going to play her game, Harrow. We are going to get Wesley back on our terms."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Commander Riker powered down the shuttle craft, and unfolded his long legs from the cockpit. He was sweaty and tired; suddenly realizing just how tired, as he ran a hand through his hair. Seeing the charred and damaged hull and in places the visible interior of the Enterprise from outside the ship had been more than a shock; it had been heart wrenching. To know that so many of the crew had lost their lives, and that they were still not even close to being out of danger really gave him pause.

When he stepped out of the shuttle, carefully ducking through the hatch, he was mildly surprised to find Data and Troi waiting there for him.

"Hey," he said. "What are you two doing here?" They explained what had happened to Wesley and that Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher had gone to find him. Riker listened with widening eyes as they sped through the details.

"They _what_?" was all he could say when they had finished, hardly believing his ears. This whole thing was like a continuing bad dream.

Because Commander Riker apparently failed to comprehend what they had just told him, Data opened his mouth as though ready to repeat the entire series of events again, but Troi put a restraining hand on his arm. Having become familiar enough with such non-verbal conversational cues, Data closed his mouth again.

Riker passed a hand over his forehead trying to settle his mind. "How are the repairs going?" he asked Data.

"Slightly ahead of schedule, sir."

"Good," said Riker. Now he had to ask the real question. "How long until we have warp drive?"

"Geordi reports that warp drive should be operational in approximately four and one half hours, Commander," Data said.

"And how long until the star goes?"

"Current estimates have the supernova occurring in six hours, sir."

"Shit," Riker said under his breath. "That's cutting it close, Data."

"Yes sir," admitted Data.

* * *

Claudia glanced at Wesley Crusher, lying close to the main entry hatch on the Eve. He was weakening she could tell. By now his organs would begin the process of paralysis, until the effect reached his heart and it simply stopped beating. But she knew they would come. And they would bring Allen—at least if they wanted the boy to survive, they would.

She glanced around her. Allen would be proud of her and the way she had changed the Eve. He hadn't known she was capable of completely changing the shape and size of the ship until she had plunged it into the side of the Enterprise. She had shrunk the Eve into a streamlined tube-like shape to fit her current needs. Previously the Eve was much too large to fit inside the body of the Enterprise. But they had wanted to be rid of her, trying to throw her away like refuse…and she could not have that. So she had changed the ship.

She had also turned the bodies of the former crew and the Orion pirates into ash and had expelled them into space. She knew that as long as the evidence of the bad things she had done existed, Allen would not be willing to join her on board for the final journey to the monster's planet; to their new home. She was beginning to see that there was no difference between Claudia and the monster. They were one and the same. She needed Allen, and the monster needed to be free at any cost. As long as she and the monster understood each other's needs, everything would be fine.

* * *

Picard, Crusher, Harrow and Worf used a series of utility ladders to climb down to deck 32, the site of the Eve's crash landing. It would have been difficult to envision the extent of the damage to the decks had they not seen it for themselves. It was as though a giant bite had been taken out of the Enterprise. But all around them workers, both human and robotic made the necessary repairs swiftly and skillfully.

When they reached their destination, they looked on in subdued horror at the Eve, looking oddly pristine and seamless in a depression in the deck it had gouged for itself. Surrounding the Eve were smoking heaps of debris. And they all knew that beneath the rubble were the bodies of their comrades. At least the ones who had not been blown out into space during the event.

Picard watched Harrow as the man stared at the Eve in apparent awe. Even Picard who was less familiar with the Eve could tell that it appeared reborn, and somehow looked untouched despite the evils it had been witness to; and those it had inflicted under the command of Claudia. "She did it," Harrow breathed.

"Did what?" Beverly asked, stepping up beside him.

"She changed the ship…it was the one thing we thought she would be unable to do. Phasing with the ship, operating it were somehow miracles. But we never expected that she would be able to one day change the ship in the same way that she changes her own body."

"Allen," said Beverly, her eyes narrowing. "You sound as though you still admire this woman. Just don't forget why you're here with us," she warned him.

Harrow swallowed. "I know…I mean, I won't," he said.

"Good," she said, walking ahead to catch up with the others.

* * *

Worf and Picard walked slowly toward the entrance of the Eve, clearing a path through the debris. About twenty feet away, Picard signaled for Worf to halt beside him. "Claudia," he shouted. "We've come for Wesley Crusher. Let him go."

There was a mechanical whine and the release of steam and a circular hatch opened on the Eve. Immediately a greenish clawed hand reached out of the hatch, and then another. Claudia's head stretched out next, and her head moved around in a jerking motion. The human parts of her face were hardly recognizable as such now. Her nose had been replaced with a small scaly protrusion containing two nostrils. A long forked tongue flicked of her mouth, tasting the air. Was she smelling them? One of her eyes was closed, still healing from have been poked at, and shot at. If she was daunted by the fact that she had lost an eye, Picard could not tell.

Quickly but deliberately she climbed out of the hatch walking or crawling on four legs. She no longer appeared mostly human. In one of her back feet, she held Wesley Crusher's pale arm tightly, as she peered from side to side, no doubt looking for Allen. When she seemed to locate him by sensing, smelling, or looking with her one eye, or some combination of all three, she let out what almost sounded like a relieved hiss.

"Claudia!" Beverly Crusher suddenly ran forward, pushing through Picard and Worf. "Let Wesley go!" Claudia hissed angrily at the woman in front of her.

"Where isss Allen Harrow?" she demanded. "You will have to give him up, Beverly Crusher, before you have your son. Hurry…he is almost dead."

Beverly pulled out her phaser, and Picard heard her switch the power on. "Beverly, wait!" he urged her.

"Right here, Claudia," said Allen stepping forward. "I'm right here," he said. He slowly walked up the ramp toward her.

Claudia made a sound almost like a whimper. "Allen, my love. You have come back to me. I thought they had stolen you away from me forever."

"And now they want their boy back. Should I hand him over or let him die? You decide, Allen," she said slyly.

Allen continued to walk forward up the ramp toward her. "You must let him go Claudia, I'm here now."

Claudia hissed and seemed to question whether she should honor her promise to let the boy go. "You lied to me before, Allen. I won't allow you to lie to me again. You must come with me to our new home. Once this ship is operational again, we will go there. And be together. But only if you do not lie, Allen. Do you want the monster to kill you?"

Allen put his palms up outstretched. "Please, Claudia, I will do as you say. Just please let Wesley go."

* * *

Claudia blinked her glowing eye, and then unceremoniously rolled Wesley Crusher's body down the ramp toward them. Worf rushed in and picked Wesley up in his arms. "Take him to safety," Picard ordered, keeping his phaser trained on Claudia as Worf moved away. Crusher followed him, and they laid Wesley down in a far corner of what used to be a former corridor, now demolished. Beverly had her med kit open and was administering a dosage of serum to fight the effects of the poisonous venom. When Riker had been poisoned by one of the monster's claws, Beverly had been able to successfully treat him, so she tried to remain positive. At least they had Wesley back with them. She put a hand on his cheek as she began to run fluids though his arm intravenously. His skin had turned a grayish green color, and he remained unconscious. She was so engrossed with caring for him that she did not immediately hear the shouts coming from the Eve.

"Now," said Claudia, reaching her arms out wide. "Come to me, Allen."

It was then that Allen knelt down and removed something from his boot. He fired the small phaser at Claudia. She leapt out of the way enraged, and the phaser fire hit the top of the hatch causing a large piece of metal to break free and fall on Claudia.

Harrow to turned to Picard. "Shoot her, kill her!" he screamed at Picard. Picard ran forward trying to get a lock on her, but Allen was in the way. Before he could fire, Claudia was back on all four of her feet, having thrown the metal support to the side. She lashed out at Allen with her tail, wrapping it around his leg and sending him careening out of the way. Instead of attacking Harrow, she jumped toward Picard, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him into the air.

"Jean-Luc!" Beverly shouted, now standing up, having realized what was going on. Nearby, Harrow shook the dizziness from his head, and slowly got to his feet. Worf had un-holstered his phaser and was running toward them.

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. Claudia was gone, and in her place was Captain Picard…who was now fighting to the death with Captain Picard, or at least an accurate duplicate of Captain Picard. "Shoot him! He's not me!" shouted Captain Picard, as he gripped Captain Picard by the neck. Captain Picard delivered a thumping punch to the side of Captain Picard's head. Or was it Claudia? Worf looked from one man to the other, wishing for some clear sign of what to do next.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Captain Picard grabbed the hand clasped around his throat and tried to pull it off. But Claudia's grip was like iron. He began to wonder if she planned on ripping his trachea out of his neck. She was certainly strong enough. Such an event would probably clarify quickly for Worf which of them was the authentic Picard—the one with the missing trachea. But he didn't plan on waiting until death for Worf to figure it out. His hand quivered with exertion as he moved it up to Claudia's wrist, which he recognized through a haze of minimal oxygen was remarkably like his own wrist. He twisted with all of his strength and broke the false Picard's grip on his neck.

Kicking upward he struggled to flip her off of him. As Claudia tumbled over her, he wasted no time leaping onto her. He slammed the back of the false Picard's head into the deck, just as his duplicate raked at his face. Unfortunately for Claudia, the duplicate Picard's nails were not nearly as long as her own, and so the damage to Picard's face was less than she probably intended.

He planted his knee roughly in the stomach of his rival, but Claudia summoned her strength and tossed him off of her. He rolled, and nearly landed on Worf's boots. The Klingon glared down at Picard. "Worf it's me," he breathed. Worf's eyes narrowed and he trained his phaser on Picard.

"Watch out, Worf! She's trying to trick you," the false Picard yelled in warning. "Don't touch her!"

Worf backed up, as Picard tried to reach out to him, now having moved to his hands and knees. He clutched at his throat and coughed. "I am warning you," said Worf. "Stay where you are or I will have to shoot you."

Giving up on his attempts to reach Worf for now, Picard turned just as the false Picard jumped him from behind. His duplicate slammed his head into Picard's causing him to stagger backwards. He put his hand over his eyebrow, as blood streamed through his fingers from large cut. He threw a punch at the false Picard's nose, and heard a snap. Claudia grabbed him behind the neck and yanked him forward, slamming her knee into his still-healing ribs. He cried out in pain, and grabbed at his ribs. As she tried to take advantage of his vulnerable position, he threw a violent uppercut at his duplicate's jaw sending the false Picard reeling backwards.

With Allen's help, Beverly was alternately treating Wesley and watching the fight unfold. How there could really be two Jean-Luc's was completely confusing to her. They looked, moved and sounded exactly the same. At one point she glanced up and saw one Picard knee the other in the ribs. As he cried out and clutched at his ribs, she stood up in alarm, realizing she had identified him. It was Jean-Luc.

She looked down at Wesley. He was stabilizing, but it would be hours before she knew whether he could truly be cured. She looked at Harrow. Could she trust him with her son? She needed to help Worf identify Jean-Luc, so that Claudia could be stopped before she killed him in her rage. As long as she appeared to be Jean-Luc, she would have the protection of disguise. "Allen…I have to help Jean-Luc. Will you monitor Wesley's vitals?"

Allen looked up at her from his crouched position. "Of course," he agreed softly. "Be careful," he added earnestly.

Beverly nodded and then looked toward the two fighting figures again. In dismay she realized she had lost track of who was who again. Both Picards were now bruised and bloodied as they grappled together.

Worf stood frozen, poised to fire as soon as he had some revelation, some sign of who the real Picard was. Beverly rushed to Worf's side and then stopped. "Doctor," he confessed, "I am at a loss."

"I know," she said, eyes wide as she watched as both versions of the Captain tried to wrestle each other to the ground. Her eyes shifted from one man to the other anxiously. She clasped her hands to her face, trying hard to concentrate, but even their vocalizations sounded the same.

"Jean-Luc!" she shouted suddenly, hoping for the best. Both men paused, shifting their gazes to look at her, at the same moment. She hadn't fooled Claudia into hesitating, and even if one of them had hesitated it wouldn't tell her if it was really him, would it? They proceeded again to hammer at each other, grunting and pulling each other's limbs, now growing too tired to fight with any kind of strategy. Whichever one was the real Jean-Luc was suffering. And she couldn't allow it to happen any longer.

"Jean-Luc, I love you," Beverly declared in a clear voice suddenly. There was nothing overly dramatic about her declaration. She was simply stating a fact that she had never spoken aloud before, never really admitted to herself. The two men slowed their fighting down abruptly. They staggered apart and looked at her. She now had her phaser drawn, pointed at them with an intense look on her face.

"I know, Beverly," said one Picard quickly. "I love you too."

The other Picard stared at her with raised eyebrows, looking completely shocked. Hesitating only slightly, she fired the weapon.

Beside her, Worf cursed loudly in Klingon as the phaser shot through the shoulder of either the Captain or his duplicate. The man who was struck suddenly crumpled to the deck, and then with a loud cry turned into a scaly four legged creature. A moment later, turned and scampered away, as Worf fired again, hitting her in her back leg. Still moving, she dragged herself with alarming speed up the ramp of the Eve, shutting the hatch behind her with a clanging sound.

Worf adjusted his phaser and pursued her. "Stop, Worf," said Picard, dropping down to sit on the deck tiredly. He held his sleeve up to the cut over his eye. "We have Wesley. We need to get him to safety…get him well. We will have to deal with Claudia later."

Worf nodded and tapped his communicator. "Main sick bay, this is Lt. Worf. Five to beam to sick bay."

Before the transporter beams took them, Picard and Beverly locked eyes. His dumbfounded expression returned as he saw her smile ever so slightly.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

"She did _what_?" Riker exclaimed. He stood with Worf at the entrance to sick bay listening to the Security Chief's report of the events on deck 32, and once again could not believe his ears.

"Doctor Crusher...shot Captain Picard," Worf repeated. "But it was _not_ Captain Picard, it was the shape shifter."

Riker stared at Worf intensely. "And how did she know it wasn't him?" You couldn't just go around shooting at a duplicate of the Captain unless you had evidence it really wasn't him.

Worf looked somewhat puzzled himself. He crossed his arms over his big chest. "The Doctor merely made a statement. Claudia provided a response, and Doctor Crusher shot her, knowing that she was the imposter."

Riker's eyebrows shot up. "So Claudia provided the wrong response…."

"Apparently the correct response was none at all, because the real Captain Picard did not say a word. The Captain and Doctor must have been using some sort of...code," Worf said as though reasoning it out for himself.

Riker nodded, although he was completely confused. "Are you certain it's Captain Picard?" he asked in a lower voice.

"I am sure," Worf said confidently. "I saw Claudia turn back into herself, and crawl away."

"And you didn't kill her?"

"I tried, sir. But she succeeded in taking refuge in her ship."

Riker sighed. "At least we got Wes back." He paused and then looked at Worf again. "So they looked _totally_ identical?"

"Yes."

Riker shook his head. "Well… I still don't get it. In any case, I need to go and speak to the Captain."

* * *

 **A few minutes later…**

Riker ducked his head through the door of the recovery room. Captain Picard sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, deep in thought. It wasn't until he glanced up at Riker that his battered appearance became clear. "Okay if I come in, sir?"

Picard looked up then. "Oh yes, Number One, please come in," he said, waving Riker in. He attempted then to straighten up, placing his palms on the bed on either side of him.

"Sir…glad to see you are alive, if not completely well."

Picard smiled wanly. "Yes, I would like to assure you that it looks worse than it is, but my face has seen better days. But believe me, Commander, I don't plan on remaining in sick bay but a few minutes more. I am just waiting for Doctor Crusher. I would like to know how Ensign Crusher is doing" he added, suddenly displaying the same far away expression he'd had in his eyes when Riker had first entered the room.

Riker nodded and considered asking the Captain about the events on deck 32, but then thought better of it, for now.

"Sir, repairs to the ruptured nacelle are still ahead of schedule. LaForge seems to be pulling off the impossible."

"Yet again," said Picard. "I am truly fortunate to have such a crew. And to think just a matter of hours ago, he nearly died down in Engineering."

Riker crossed his arms. "There is a new issue with the time table, though sir."

Picard eyed him. "I thought you just said we were ahead of schedule…."

"We are sir…but unfortunately so is the impending supernova. We should finish the repairs within 3 hours, but now the star seems to be beginning its final collapse sooner than expected."

"How much sooner?"

"Three and a half hours, Captain." Riker leaned back against the door frame.

Both men fell silent. The odds were just not good. If they did not complete the repairs before the shockwave reached them, they wouldn't have warp capability. And without warp capability they could not outrun the shockwave, and would be incinerated by it.

Picard winced, scratching the back of his head. "I should be on the bridge," he said slowly.

Riker took a deep breath. "We've reached a point sir, when those of us who aren't engineers are simply waiting to see what happens."

Picard looked up at him sharply. "I don't like to just sit and wait, Commander."

"Neither do I sir. I'm just trying to say…well there may be more important things than to be on the bridge right now." Picard looked down. He knew what Riker was getting at. They might not make it out of this alive.

"Are our impulse engines still functional?" he asked keeping his tone even; not wanting to give the impression that he was too concerned about their chances.

"Yes sir. I know you wanted to conserve energy before in order to concentrate on the repairs, but..."

Picard nodded. "Engage at full impulse and put as much distance between us and that star as possible," he said. "We can't afford to let time run out on us."

Riker turned to go, and then, his curiosity getting the better of him turned back to look at Picard. "Captain?"

Picard looked up at him slowly. "Yes? Is there something else?"

Riker hesitated. "Worf told me there was something that Doctor Crusher said to you before she fired. I've just been wondering how she knew. I mean, what if she had shot the wrong version of you?"

"Well, we sure as hell would not have been having this conversation, Number One. She shot Claudia through the neck. Unlike Claudia, I would have likely died almost instantly." Riker's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. Picard folded his arms over his chest and fell silent. Eventually he glanced up at Riker again. "You really want to know what she said?"

Riker shrugged, now reconsidering his snooping. "Just curious I guess, sir-"

"She declared her love for me," Picard said quickly. "And I was too shocked to respond. I didn't say a word."

"But Claudia did? Whoa... "

Picard looked down at his hands in his lap. "For years I have wondered…but I was always too afraid to ask the question."

"Sir, you're not afraid of anything—"

"Of this I am, Will. Terrified in fact…." He smiled slightly with rare self exposure. "Isn't it amazing that you can know someone for years, care for them even…but you just never have the courage to say one simple thing? The things that truly matter somehow go unspoken."

Riker shifted his feet uncomfortably. The Captain had never confided in him this way before. "But maybe you both knew, sir. All these years."

Picard shrugged. "And yet it seems it took a near-death experience for us to realize it."

"To realize what?" Beverly Crusher stood in the doorway. She appeared exhausted and disheveled. Her blue lab coat was stained with blood, and Picard realized suddenly that it was his blood. She held a closed tricorder in her hand as though she was afraid to put it down.

Riker moved out of her way, wondering how much she had heard before interrupting. "Doctor, good to see you're alright," he said. She smiled up at him tiredly and nodded. "How's Wes?"

She sighed. "He's got a long road ahead of him. He was poisoned, and almost died. But Dr. Selar and I were able to synthesize a proper antidote. Claudia had…she'd injected him with just enough venom that if we had taken the full hour she had given us to find him—he would have died." She gritted her teeth and looked as though she wanted to slam the tricorder in to pieces on the floor.

Riker took another deep breath, suddenly feeling as though he was intruding. "Captain, I will be on the bridge if you need me. I hope you will rest, sir. Doctor," he said nodding goodbye to her.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"The Captain wants us to set a course away from the dying star," Riker said, stepping onto the bridge. "Full impulse power," he ordered, sitting down in the captain's chair.

"Aye sir," said the helm officer.

He stared at the main viewer. On screen the giant red sun was in turmoil. Riker could relate to the feeling as his thoughts were a complete mess. More than anything, he was angry. He wished he could find a way to get rid of Claudia once and for all.

Next to Riker, Deanna Troi frowned and then looked over at him. "Will…what are you thinking?" she said softly. She worried that he was liable to do something drastic.

"Is the Eve space worthy?" Riker asked, leaning forward in his chair, still gazing at the view screen.

"It appears to be, sir," said Worf from behind him. "I have a team of officers guarding it."

"I wish we could just blow her ass out into space," muttered Riker darkly. His eyes narrowed. _Or into that sun_ , he thought.

Data turned in his seat at ops. "Commander, if by blowing 'her ass out into space' you mean that you intend to attempt to eject the Eve from the Enterprise, may I remind you that our first attempt to do so was nearly disastrous for the Enterprise."

Riker exhaled loudly sitting back in his chair. "Thanks for the reminder, Data," Riker said sourly.

"Data is right, Will," said Deanna. "I continue to sense great hostility and obsession from Claudia. Despite having been wounded, she is still powerful. If we try and rid ourselves of her again, she is likely to do the same thing she did last time. Only as we have seen with Claudia, she tends to escalate the violence the more desperate she becomes."

Riker turned to Deanna in frustration. "Deanna, what is it going to take at this point to be rid of her? We're expending all of our energy to get away from this sun. And when we get away— _if_ we get away, what is the point if we are still plagued by her? She's like a parasite, and now she's worked her way into the innards of our ship."

Troi shook her head. "Will, she is not going to be forced to leave. So if she leaves, in answer to your question, it will only be because she wants to."

* * *

She was still alive, although they had tried their best to kill her. Their best had not been good enough. She would prevail. And if Allen would not come willingly, she would take the whole ship to the monster's home planet. She was desperate to do what the monster wanted. It was the only being she had ever been able to trust. She should give in to its will, because soon they would be one and the same.

She lay on the deck of the Eve, half phased into the ship as its systems thrummed around her, through her, helping her to heal. Then she felt the slightest shift. What was happening? The ship was moving again. She had felt it move. They could not take her further away from what was to be her home.

She was injured. The Crusher woman had tried to kill her. But she was still alive. And if Claudia concentrated hard enough, she could make her will manifest.

* * *

"Jean-Luc, I've come to a decision," Beverly said, moving closer to him.

He tensed up slightly, still sitting on the bed. "Oh?"

"I'm taking Wesley to our quarters. I can care for him there," she said.

He nodded. "Of course, you must do whatever you think is best, Beverly."

She stepped forward and grabbed his hands. "I want you to come with us. We may only have a few hours left, Jean-Luc. I want to spend the time I have left with the two people I love most."

He stared at her. "Then…you really do love me," he said.

"Of course I love you. I told you, didn't I? Have you forgotten so soon?"

"I daresay I won't ever forget that you said it…nor will I forget the bizarre circumstances under which it was said."

"I don't blame you for being in shock, Jean-Luc. You almost died." She reached out and caressed his bruised face gently. "But can you imagine how I felt? I could have killed you." He continued to gaze at her with clear anxiety. Why did he look like he was afraid to speak? "Jean-Luc," she said. "Why do you look like I've permanently scarred you? Should I not expect you to be able to share your feelings with me now?"

"I was just about to say it when you fired…."

"Oh…." She tried to smile, but it came out like a grimace. She didn't even want to think about what might have happened if he had spoken up sooner. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. She waited. "What exactly were you going to say?" she prompted.

He tightened his lips and looked away.

"Look, Jean-Luc," she said spreading her arms wide. "I'm completely unarmed now…you can surely be honest with me."

He turned his gaze back to her and in a rare moment looked very vulnerable to her. "You saved my life," he said. "I think Claudia would have killed me, had you not acted as you did. What you did took incredible courage."

She visibly relaxed, and tears suddenly came to her eyes. She grabbed him into an embrace. He groaned into her shoulder, still very sore. "Sorry," she murmured, but still held onto him tightly.

"It's alright," he said returning her grip. "I love you too. I think I always have."

She pulled away slightly and touched his face again. There were tears in her eyes but she was smiling now. "You need to rest. You're a mess," she said smiling at him affectionately. She wiped at her eyes.

He raised a painful eyebrow. "I know." He slid off of the bed and stood next to her. "Let me help you bring Wesley back to your quarters at least."

She nodded. "I have an anti-grav stretcher all ready for him."

* * *

When they entered Beverly's quarters, the air seemed slightly stale. "Lights," Picard said, and the room was illuminated. Beverly held the stretcher by the handle as it floated beside her with Wesley on it. Her eyes fell on her med kit, lying open on the dining table. Her own trusted tools had been used to harm her son. She felt an instinctive fury rising up in her, and was glad that Jean-Luc had come with her. Just having him there calmed her down.

She looked down at Wesley as he made a soft moaning sound. He had been unconscious for hours now, and just now began to stir. She put a hand on her son's arm to steady him as she watched Picard survey the room.

Picard walked over and picked up a chair, examining it carefully. It had been broken through some violent act. He leaned it against the table, angry that they were standing amidst the scene of Wesley's poisoning and kidnapping. He knew that Beverly was thinking about the same things he was—how she wished she had been there to stop it. He could see that Wesley was moving now—waking up. He walked over, not sure how he could be of help.

All of a sudden Wesley began to thrash around wildly. Picard grasped his wrists gently. Beverly tried to talk to him softly, and gradually the boy stopped twisting around on the stretcher. He blinked up at them, and then began to cry. Picard could see the boy was embarrassed to cry in front of him, so he averted his eyes, knowing how he would have felt in Wesley's place. Beverly stroked Wesley's hair until he closed his eyes. Looking at Beverly for permission, Picard reached down and scooped Wesley into his arms and carried the boy into his bedroom. Beverly followed with her medical supplies, and watched as Picard gently laid Wesley down. He sat down carefully on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you," Beverly said to him, fighting back tears. She sniffled as she turned away and pulled open a drawer. "These are his favorite pajamas…at least I think they are," she said, pulling them out.

Picard looked at her and stood up. "Beverly, I don't think he is strong enough to dress himself right now. Perhaps we should just let him sleep."

"He'll sleep better if he's comfortable," she said. "He won't let me do it, not at his age." She handed him the clothes. "Would you help him?" she asked hopefully.

Picard was genuinely surprised. He tried not to look too uncomfortable. "Yes, of course," he agreed, taking the pajamas from her.

* * *

"Dammit, what's going on? Why have we changed course and speed?" Riker stood up and walked toward the helm.

The officer was clearly perplexed. "I—I don't know sir."

"Well compensate then, Lieutenant," Riker snapped.

"Aye sir. Trying, sir."

Deanna stood up. "Commander," she said. "It's her…it's Claudia. She is forcing us back in the direction in which we came."

"Internal sensors confirm a substantial power surge originating from an independent source located on deck 32, Commander," Data reported.

"The Eve," Worf rumbled.

"How?" Riker demanded. "How is she doing it?"

"She's merged the Eve with the Enterprise," Deanna confirmed.

* * *

After Beverly left the room, Picard pulled Wesley up into a sitting position and tugged awkwardly at his sleeves, trying to pull the boy's shirt off. "Unh," Wesley grunted.

"Can you sit up by yourself?" Picard said, trying to sound as gentle and patient as possible. He was not the nurturing type, but as this was apparently what Beverly expected of him at the moment, he attempted to oblige.

Wesley's eyes fluttered open. He looked at Picard drowsily and swayed back and forth, but was able to sit up cross-legged. "Hi sir…what are you doing here?"

Picard cleared his throat. "Mr. Crusher-Wesley, your mother is in the other room. She asked me to help you dress. As long as you don't mind, I'll help you. You were seriously injured, and you've lost a great deal of strength."

Wesley blinked at him, but was clearly out of it. "Wow, sir. You look awful," he declared.

Picard made a face. "Well…you're correct, Wesley. I took a few too many blows to the face, unfortunately. Clearly I need to work on my defensive tactics." He paused and smiled wryly. "But I have to tell you Wesley, you look almost as awful as I do. But the important thing is that we are both here to make light of what is otherwise a very bad situation."

His communicator chirped at that moment. "Picard here, go ahead."

 _"_ _Captain,"_ came Riker's voice, sounding tense and worried. " _We've changed course and speed. We are currently unable to go anywhere, Captain. Propulsion is down again."_

Oh, the familiar feeling of dread. "What is our current position, Commander?"

 _"_ _Sir, you are going to find this difficult to believe. But we're closer to the dying star than we were before you gave the order to go to full impulse in the opposite direction."_

"Understood. I'm on my way," he said. It was Claudia, that much was clear, but he didn't want to say that wretched being's name in front of Wesley right now. Picard stood up, absently pushing the pajama shirt down over Wesley's head as the teen thrust his gangly arms into the sleeves. He patted Wesley on the shoulder. "I've got to go up to the bridge, Wesley. But I will be back down to see you. Now you must rest, and that is an order," he said pointing at the bed.

Wesley nodded groggily. "Aye sir," he said, sinking back down into the bed.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

"Commander, we are no longer located a safe distance from the collapsing star," said Data. "As the star continues its collapse we are likely to be pulled in by the gravitational force of the star. In addition, gamma radiation levels will become critical within the next two hours, sir," reported Data.

"If we don't get propulsion up and running by then we'll all be dead by then anyway," Riker snapped. _If we don't die first from the goddamn heat_ , he thought, wiping his brow. He tapped his communicator. "Geordi, I _really_ need to hear some good news right now."

 _"Commander, we'll have warp capability real soon...and then as soon as I get the nacelles re-polarized so that I don't have one side overpowering the other, we'll be able to use warp safely."_

"But…" Riker prompted.

"But the real problem, Commander, is the hold Claudia has on the Enterprise."

"What exactly is she doing?" Riker asked.

" _The easiest way to describe it is that each time the Eve links up with us she introduces a kind of virus, corrupting our systems. And as long as she continues to override our commands to our propulsion systems, we're not going anywhere, Commander_ ," said LaForge.

Picard arrived in the bridge a few moments later, stepping out of the turbo lift briskly. "Status report."

Riker got up from the command chair and adjusted his sweaty collar. It was becoming unbearably hot on the bridge. "Sir," said Riker. "We've raised the solar shields to help block some of the radiation and heat, but we can't stay this close to the star for much longer. There are too many ways that this could end badly for us, Captain."

"I know," said Picard, who remained standing and turned to stare at the looming star on the view screen. "But we are not going to sit here and ponder which is the best way to die," he said loudly. "Mr. Worf, who is the officer in charge on deck 32?"

"Lt. Marquez, sir."

Picard hit his combadge. "Lt. Marquez this is Captain Picard."

"Yes sir," came the quick reply.

"Marquez, you are to take off your combadge, place it on the Eve, and get clear of the ship. Understood?"

"Uh, yes sir," came the woman's nervous voice.

"Have your second-in-charge signal us when you are ready," said Picard.

A few moments later, Data's console beeped. "Captain, Marquez has placed her combadge on the Eve, and she and her officers are at a safe distance."

"Very good. Data lock onto the Eve and attempt to transport it off of the Enterprise."

Data hesitated. "Captain, do you have specific coordinates for transport?"

"No," Picard snapped. "I don't have specific coordinates. Beam her out into space. She can collapse into that damn star as far as I'm concerned," he said, turning and walking back to sit down heavily in his chair.

Noting with minor satisfaction that he had already thought of shooting Claudia into the sun, Riker moved to sit down next to the Captain.

"Attempting to transport, in three, two, one…." Data turned to look behind him. "Captain transport was unsuccessful."

"Why?" Picard demanded, standing up again and walking forward to stand next to Data.

"Unknown, Captain. Perhaps it is because the Eve has once again fused itself to the structures within the Enterprise. I would postulate that the transporter beam makes little or no distinction between the Eve, and the surface it is currently fused with."

"We can't beam an entire deck off of the ship," said Riker.

Picard ran his sleeve over his forehead. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face. _Dammit._ "Counselor," he said slowly turning around to look at Troi. "Why would Claudia throw us back toward the star? What is she trying to accomplish?"

Troi stood up and placed her hands behind her back, looking thoughtfully down at the deck before raising her eyes to meet the Captain's. "Sir, I sense the usual obsessive thoughts from Claudia. She is still obsessed with Allen, and the now dominant aspect of her personality that we know as the reptilian monster is obsessed with getting to its home. But she is also conflicted and confused…and perhaps more importantly she was severely injured during the battle on deck 32. I do not believe she intended to end up near the star when she moved the ship last. She was simply desperate to prevent the Enterprise from traveling too far off course from her home planet."

Picard shook his head and wiped the perspiration from his face again. "Where the hell is Doctor Harrow?" he asked no one in particular.

"Doctor Harrow is in his quarters," reported the computer, as always, ready with an answer.

Picard looked at the Security Chief. "Mr. Worf, please go and find Dr. Harrow and bring him up to the bridge. Perhaps he can finally help us to solve the problem he created."

* * *

Beverly sat in the dark in Wesley's room. The temperature in their quarters was now stifling. She guessed it was the same all over the ship. Wesley tossed and turned in his bed, feverish. And now the heat from the star was making it even more difficult for her to regulate her son's temperature.

"Mom!" he shouted out periodically, sounding delirious. Now, she heard his breathing calm down a bit, and she knew he was sleeping, if fitfully. She got up and touched his forehead lightly. His fever was breaking. Somewhat relieved, she sat back down and drew her knees up to her chest. She was exhausted, but determined not to sleep at least until Jean-Luc returned. She wondered if he would come back before they were out of danger.

They only had a few hours until the star's gravitational implosion created a corresponding explosion sending a shockwave of the star's core rocketing through space. And would they be able to move out of the way before then? They had to find a way to break loose from Claudia's grip.

She hoped that the Captain would return before it was all over—whatever the end would be- but she also knew that his instincts would tell him to stay on the bridge for as long as the ship was in grave danger. She hugged her knees tighter and looked at Wesley. At least Jean-Luc knew that she loved him now. And he had told her the same. Part of her had always known that he had loved her. So much seemed inconsequential now except for the love that she felt for her family and friends. At least, she thought, she would die with the people she loved the most.

Her head jerked up, when she heard the door chime. Her and closed tightly on the grip of the phaser laying on a chair next to her. She picked up the phaser, glancing at Wesley and then walked out into the main living area. "Who is it?" she called out.

"Alyssa," came the voice thinly through the door. "Captain Picard sent me," the voice added.

Beverly walked to the door, still holding the phaser as it slid open. Alyssa Ogawa's smiling face greeted her. The nurse was holding some shimmering material in her arms. Her gaze dropped only momentarily to rest on the phaser in Beverly's right hand. Alyssa felt for her friend, who she could see was exhausted and still frightened by the events that had unfolded recently.

Beverly forced a smile, and put her slightly trembling hand behind her back.

"Hi Doctor, how is Wesley doing?" Ogawa asked, trying to keep her tone light. Beverly watched her friend closely, looking for any suspicious signs that this was not really Alyssa Ogawa.

"Um…he's better than he was," she said shortly. The woman standing before her looked and sounded like Alyssa, but what if she was really Claudia, determined to hurt her and harm her son? She wished that Jean-Luc was there with her. He would help her to see reason—to see that this was really her friend. She blinked, trying to clear the paranoid thoughts from her mind. "You said the Captain sent you?" she looked at the material Alyssa was holding. "Are those cooling blankets?"

Alyssa nodded. "Yes, Captain Picard asked me to give him an update on Welsey's condition and told me to bring you these blankets to help with the rising temperature."

Beverly nodded. "Thank you so much, Alyssa. Are you going to see the Captain personally?" She bit her bottom lip which had begun to tremble.

"No, he just asked me to call him. I could tell he was really distracted…you know with everything going on. But I could also hear in his voice that he was concerned about you, Doctor," she added.

"Thank you," Crusher said in a near whisper. She took the blankets from Alyssa.

Alyssa stepped toward her slightly, and Beverly took an involuntary step back, still clutching the blankets. "Is…is there anything that I can do to help you with Wesley?" Alyssa asked.

"No," Beverly said rather harshly, stepping back through the doorway. "No," she said again trying to soften her tone. "I appreciate the offer, but we'll be fine," she assured Ogawa as the doors swished closed.

* * *

"I'm willing to do whatever I need to in order to help," insisted Harrow. He sat at the conference room table. Mercifully it was cooler in that room.

Picard walked around the table. "I wonder…Doctor Harrow, I have a theory. But given your…familiarity with the diabolical mind of Claudia, I would like your opinion, and then of course I will without hesitation accept your offer of help." He paused his pacing and leaned on the table toward Harrow. "You are being sincere with this offer, I hope."

Harrow nodded. "Of course," he said sounding not in the least bit insulted.

Picard glanced at Riker, who he had already briefed on his idea. They depended on Harrow to help them carry it out, however.

"Data," ventured Picard, sitting down at the table. The coolness of the stone table contrasted with the overheated atmosphere aboard the ship. "Do we still have Doctor Harrow's transporter trace left over from his beam over from the Eve?"

"Yes sir," said Data. "Doctor Harrow's molecular pattern will be stored and deleted only when it is no longer needed."

"And could we in effect create a false Doctor Harrow by using this pattern?"

Data folded his hands in front of him on the table. "Yes, in theory. However, it would help me to know the purpose of such a replica, in order to determine any additional technology required."

Picard looked at his second officer. "I want to give Claudia the unmistakable impression that Dr. Harrow is off the Enterprise."

"So that she will leave willingly," said Troi smiling slightly. "She does have a very strong sense of Allen's physical presence."

"And having tapped into the Enterprise computer, she will be able to pull up a visual of Harrow's replica floating outside the ship," said Worf. "She will see what we see."

Picard nodded. "Can it be done?"

"I could create a holo program of Dr. Harrow's appearance and coordinate it with the stored molecular pattern. It would result in a convincing replica, Captain," said Data.

"But there's still the problem of hiding the real Harrow from her," said Riker.

"Hmm?" Picard turned to look at Riker, and his face fell slightly. "He's right," Picard said looking again to Data. "We can't convince her to leave if she becomes aware that there are two Allen Harrows. Claudia is many things, but she is not stupid."

Data tilted his head slightly to the side. "I will need to use a stealth technology to in effect hide Doctor Harrow's physical form here on board the Enterprise, while his replica floats in space."

"You could cover his clothes with masking circuitry," suggested Riker.

"Yes," said Data. "But to be effective, I will need also need to use some type of refractive shielding around Doctor Harrow."

"Is there any risk to Doctor Harrow?" Picard asked.

"No," said Data. "In effect what appears outside the ship would be a projection of the Doctor, who will of course remain on board."

"And once she finds out it's not really me?" Harrow asked.

We'll only need a few minutes to get propulsion back online and warp away," said Riker.

"Unfortunately, Claudia can wreak a lot of havoc in just a few minutes," Harrow said. "But, I think it's a good plan."

Riker put a hand on Harrow's shoulder. "Good then. Let's get you suited up, Doctor."

Allen nodded and got to his feet. But deep in his mind, something else occurred to him. There was another option he hadn't allowed himself to think about until now.

* * *

He didn't want to make her come to the door, nor did he want to scare her by simply walking into her quarters. He knew she was under immense stress, but he wanted to see her very badly.

"Beverly," he called out, having entered the override and let himself in. "It's me, Jean-Luc," he said. She stepped from the side, from the shadows of her tiny kitchen. She held the phaser in her hand loosely, but he could tell that she wanted more than anything to believe that it was him. She had been here with Wesley, struggling to keep him well and safe and she seemed to be reverting to her instincts.

"You came back," she said quietly.

He smiled despite everything. "Yes. I said that I would," he reminded her gently. She stepped closer to him, and he reached out for her hand. "How is Wesley? Did the blanket help?"

Something in her eyes seemed to connect with him then, and she smiled and nodded. "Yes, thank you," she said, taking his hand. Her grip on his hand was strong at first and then she softened it, interlocking her fingers with his. "His fever has gone down."

He laughed, relieved. "That's wonderful." He walked with her following her into Wesley's room. Wesley's back was to them, and Picard was slightly alarmed by the fragile appearance of the young man. He really had been near death.

"Wes? Captain Picard is here," Beverly said. Wesley turned over and his bleary eyes met Picard's. The teen smiled weakly.

"Look sir. I'm almost as good as new," he said actually sounding optimistic. His color was very pale and his eyes were set back in dark circles, contradicting his cheery tone.

Picard laughed again, realizing that if Wesley could make such progress against nearly impossible odds, perhaps there was some hope after all. "Now that sounds like the Wesley Crusher I know."

Wesley attempted to sit up rather unsteadily, but Picard put a hand on his shoulder. "Now, young man, it is still too soon for you to get up. Just rest."

"Yes, if you won't listen to your own mother, at least listen to the Captain," said Beverly.

"But sir…what's going on up on the bridge? Are we going to make it? What about Claudia?"

Picard shook his head. "Wesley, all you need to know is that we have a plan. And it is going to work."

Wesley nodded slowly and lay back down.

* * *

Beverly took Picard's hand and led him quietly out into the living room.

Jean-Luc touched Beverly's cheek. "You're exhausted," he said finally getting a good look at her. "You really need to rest, Beverly."

She smiled. "Yes, but I haven't wanted to sleep. Not while Wesley is so sick. Not before you came back," she added softly.

"Well," he said smiling kindly. "I am here now. So please, take the opportunity to go lay down. I will keep an eye on Mr. Crusher."

"You can call him Wesley, you know. We're not on the bridge," she said. Picard shrugged, appearing slightly embarrassed. She hugged him. "I think I will take your advice and go lay down though," she said, her voice sounding muffled against his shoulder.

"Good," he said, pleased at his small victory.

"If you come with me," she added, pulling back to look at him searchingly. He was somewhat taken aback as he gazed back at her trying to gauge her meaning. The edges of her mouth slowly curled into a smile. "Will you come and lay down with me?" Her tone was persistent, yet tender.

He opened his mouth slightly, trying to think of the appropriate response. There were all kinds of excuses he could have made. Finally he simply nodded and followed as she led him by the hand.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

"Sensors confirm a life form still on board the Eve," said Data, turning to LaForge.

"Good. She's giving us a chance to get our work done. Seems strange though that she hasn't phased out of the Eve since the battle," said Geordi, not looking up from what he was doing.

Allen Harrow shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "It's hardly strange, Mr. LaForge," Harrow said. "Claudia was severely injured. She continues to recuperate inside the Eve." The air inside the space suit was stale and hot. It was a real space suit, but of course it was just intended for show.

A few minutes earlier, Data had captured his image with a holo-cam, by walking slowly around him and focusing the device on his body at various angles. Now Harrow was forced to continue to stand still while Data and Geordi placed strange flat circuits all over his space suit. Moving quickly they linked the circuits together with hyper-spanner tools.

"Do you think Picard has completely thought this through?" asked Harrow as LaForge attached another circuit to the back of his neck. He was beginning to have doubts.

The engineer looked up sharply then turned his attention back to his work, muttering something. "Of course he's thought it through," said LaForge in a louder voice. "As much as he's had the time to think it through," he added. He didn't care if Harrow heard the anger in his voice. As far as he was concerned Harrow was responsible in some form or another, for the deaths of his engineers and really anyone who had the misfortune to encounter Claudia.

"I just don't want to see anyone else die," Harrow said in a quiet voice. LaForge suddenly tossed the hyper spanner in mid- air and walked away without explanation. Nearly faster than Harrow could see, Data stuck out his arm swiftly and grabbed the tool before it hit the deck. Still gripping it, he watched LaForge pacing back and forth in a nearby corner. "Excuse me for a moment, Doctor Harrow," Data said, moving away to LaForge's side.

"Geordi," said Data. "You are behaving oddly. Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?!" Geordi's forehead scrunched up and he appeared to struggle with how to appropriately express his dislike for Allen Harrow. " _Yes_ , something's wrong...look Data, I can't even stand to be in the same room as this guy!"

Data looked closely at his friend. "Geordi, you are not required to enjoy the company of Doctor Harrow. However, you are required to follow the Captain's orders to finish implementing the masking circuitry."

Geordi flexed his hands into fists at his sides. "I know…I just, I'm having trouble concentrating Data."

Data accessed his neural net for the appropriate response. Geordi was displaying what Data had learned were typical human responses to an extremely traumatic event. "Geordi, you are clearly experiencing anger and what is commonly referred to as 'survivor's guilt' stemming from the Eve's attack on the Enterprise."

Geordi stared at him. "And…?"

"And, I am attempting to sympathize with you, while simultaneously encouraging you to focus on our current task. If you are not able to focus, we may not complete our task. And if we do not complete our task within the required time parameters, there is a 98.9 percent chance that the Enterprise will be destroyed."

Geordi made an irritated face. "We may need to work on your grief counseling program, Data. Assuming we get out of this mess alive," he added, holding out his hand. "Can I have the hyper-spanner back now?"

"Yes, Geordi…if you will agree to refrain from throwing it into the air," said Data seriously.

Geordi shook his head. "Yeah, okay," he agreed reluctantly. Data nodded and placed the spanner in his friend's hand.

* * *

"We have to get dressed," Beverly whispered before kissing him again. He smiled and shut his eyes. It had been pitch black at first underneath the cooling blanket, but now as he opened his eyes again, he could make out the outline of her face as light from the window crept in through a fold in the blanket.

"I don't want to," he mumbled into her shoulder. She was lying on top of him, so it made it difficult for him to move, and certainly it gave him little incentive to do so. He could just fall asleep like this. He was very tired. But then he couldn't believe how smooth her skin felt pressed against his own, and his nerves were sending signals to all the important areas. So, maybe something else…

She smiled and patted his chest. "Oh, here we go again. Come on let me go, before I change my mind. Besides, I need to check on Wesley," she reminded him, sounding more serious now. Reluctantly he loosened his arms, which had been gripping her tightly. She slid off of him and pulled the blanket back. The hot air seemed to flood in, pressing them down with its weight.

It was a reminder of the dire circumstances and it should have brought him immediately back to reality. But he was in kind of a daze. "Sorry," he apologized. "I just enjoyed being with you so much. I suppose I don't want you to go." He reached out and as though mesmerized, traced his hand down the side of her breast and over her ribs, down to her waist.

She took in a sharp breath and caught his hand in hers. "I can see that," she laughed. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it, before slipping out of bed. She grabbed a clean uniform, and began to dress. She looked over at him, and her hair fell over her eyes.

He sat up in bed, pulling the blanket over his lap. She held his gaze for a few moments more as she used her hand to sweep her hair back, and finished dressing. He looked down, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by a sense of love. How could he have buried his feelings for so long, only to realize this wonderful truth when they were both so close to facing death? He knew he should have been angry, but instead he felt a quiet resolve enter his mind. They had come so far together, and even sometimes apart, and now that they were truly learning to see each other, he would not let her down.

* * *

 **I will admit, I am having a hard time resisting the urge to severely tweak (or erase) this story. I liked it when I first posted it-not so much, now. But I hope others get some joy out of it, which is why I'm re-posting the rest. Thanks as always for your readership. -PP**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"Data, let's test out the link-up," Geordi said, moving quickly to a work station. His hands flew deftly over the controls. He glanced up. "Let's try it without the refractive shielding first," he said, tapping a final equation into the console before stepping back. LaForge waved over a technician. "Marx, come here, we need your eyes." The man strolled over with his hands behind his back. Geordi nodded. "Just let us know what you can or can't see. Data and I will see if the doctor shows up on the rest of the frequencies," he said tapping the side of his Visor.

"Okay, sir," said Marx.

"I recommend that we run the program for only a few seconds, Geordi," Data said. "If Claudia is very sensitive to the presence of Doctor Harrow, she may suspect that we are attempting a ruse."

"Agreed," said LaForge. "Okay, here goes," he said, tapping his tricorder. Harrow instantly disappeared, and LaForge turned with a grin to Marx and Data.

"I can't see a thing," admitted Marx.

"Yet, it appears to be 96 percent effective in masking Doctor Harrow's physical presence."

"You're right, there's just enough of a shadow on the infrared wave length, to tip her off that something's not right." He touched a switch on his tricorder, and Harrow snapped back into view. "We'll need to use the refractive shield around him. That should completely mask him, at least for our purposes."

Data placed a tiny chip inside his tricorder and then placed it on the work station. "Initiate Data holo program Eve1," said Data, and the tricorder emitted a crisp multi-dimensional image of Allen Harrow in his space suit. "As Captain Picard requested, I was able to successfully integrate this holo image with Doctor Harrow's molecular trace pattern from the transporter memory banks."

"Looks just like me—in fact it is me, isn't it?" commented Harrow.

"About as close as it can get," Geordi said. "In any case, it'll do. If she runs a scan, she should read that it's you, unless she makes physical contact. The longer the holo program is exposed to the vacuum of space, the more degraded the molecular pattern will get. The good news is we'll only need a few minutes of her thinking that it's you floating out in space in distress before we power up and get the hell out of here."

Harrow looked at him. "Of course we are counting on her phasing the Eve off of the Enterprise as soon as she thinks she sees me." He paused. "How much time exactly do we need to warp away?"

Geordi tapped the smooth surface of the work station. "If all goes well, less than ten minutes. But anything can happen. And since propulsion is being controlled by Claudia it's not as though we can complete any test runs beforehand."

Harrow nodded, and averted his eyes. "I'm ready when you are," he said.

* * *

Riker turned to Deanna. "Well just a little while we'll either be thanking our lucky stars, or—"  
Deanna put a hand on his arm. "Will, I don't need to hear the 'or', thank you very much."

"I'm just trying to face reality," he said tensely.

"I know," she said softly. "No matter the outcome, at least we faced it together," she said, taking his hand in hers.

He squeezed her hand and chuckled, despite the somber mood. "Still best friends?"

"Yes, always, Imzadi," she said.

 _"_ _Commander Riker,"_ came Data's disembodied voice over the communication channel. _"We are ready to begin our vacation,"_ he said.

Riker grinned. He had instructed Data to speak in code while on the comm channels to confuse Claudia in case she was using the Eve to listen in. "That's wonderful, Data. I'm looking forward to living it up," said Riker, who was in fact being very truthful, although just living would be preferable, vacation or no.

"Captain," said Riker, tapping his communicator. "Data's ready to finally let his hair down."

 _"_ _Very good, Number One,"_ came Picard's clipped tones. _"I wish I could say the same. I'll be there shortly."_

* * *

"Let his hair down?" Beverly stood med kit in hand, staring at him from the doorway of Wesley's room. She shook her head. "I'm not sure I want to know the details," she said. He had already told her some of the plan, and to her it seemed quite clever. Although she didn't say it to Jean-Luc, she was relieved that Allen would be safe through it all, and that he would finally be free of Claudia—that they all would be.

He motioned with his thumb toward the door. "I have to go to the bridge. We might not see each other for a while," he said. What they both knew is that they might not see each other ever again, if things did not go as planned. But they were not about to say such things right now.

Beverly nodded and smiled faintly. She struggled but her voice caught in her throat a bit. "Wesley's awake now. He's much more alert and he might even be able to eat something soon."

"Now that's a good sign," said Picard. He hesitated, before walking back towards Wesley's room. "I would like to say something to Wesley before I leave. If you don't mind of course."

Beverly was suddenly unable to speak. She simply moved out of his way, but found herself unable to take her eyes from him as he moved past her.

Wesley was sitting up in bed, propped against some pillows. Picard knelt down next to the bed. Wesley straightened slightly, and glanced up at his mother who was standing in the doorway. "Wesley," began Picard, keeping his voice low. "I have never told you how much I admire you…."

"Admire… me sir?" Wesley's mouth was agape with a dazed look of astonishment.

Picard nodded seriously. "Yes. You have gone through so much in your life already. And you have faced every challenge head on. Do you realize how rare that is?"

Wesley continued to stare at the Captain, unsure of what to say. He managed to close his mouth, attempting a more professional expression.

"You remind me very much of your father," said Picard quietly. "And yet you are your own person. Wesley…I saw the state of the dining room…and I know that you fought Claudia with all that you had in you." He reached up to his own collar and pulled one of the command pips off. He held it out to Wesley. "And so for your bravery…and what I expect will be your continued exemplary service, I hereby promote you to the full rank of Ensign, with all of the privileges and responsibilities that rank entails." He reached up and pinned the small button to Wesley's pajama collar.

Wesley looked down at it. "Sir, I don't know what to say. Except thank you," he added.

Picard smiled and stood up extending his hand and Wesley shook it. "Eventually we will get you a proper uniform, I promise," said the Captain, before turning to leave.

"Well, Jean-Luc, for what you just did for Wesley…I guess I don't know what to say either," Beverly said, as they stood at her door.

"He has earned it," he said simply. "And you don't have to say anything," he said. "You have already given me so much more than I could have asked for."

She moved in close and kissed him. "Good luck," she said forcing herself to pull away.

He smiled reassuringly, and let go of her hand. "Good luck to us all," he said, and then slipped out the door.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Something was not right. For a few moments, Allen had seemed to disappear from her mind's eye. Where was he? She began to get angry. Yes, he had betrayed her again and again. But she still loved him.

* * *

"The timing needs to be right, Captain," Riker said, leaning toward Picard. "We need to start the holo- program at the same time we initiate the stealth technology."

"We are counting on Claudia relying on her basic instincts to protect the person she believes she is destined to be with," said Troi.

Picard nodded. "And we in turn have to rely on the fact that she is so focused on him that she will overlook logic and will simply follow him out into space, without questioning how he appeared there."

"I sense that she is still able to reason quite well, but no longer in a way that we would recognize as human. I believe that at least at first she will focus only on the fact that Allen is in distress and needs her help."

"Even though he tried to kill her?" Worf's booming voice was incredulous.

Troi turned slightly to look up at him. "Yes, Worf. Despite Doctor Harrow having committed what most people would classify as unforgiveable betrayal, Claudia believes she has no one in the universe to rely on other than Allen."

"She may be right about that," Picard muttered. "Alright then, let's get this underway," he said. "Data? Signal LaForge on a secure channel."

Data nodded and touched the ops console. "Geordi, is Doctor Harrow ready?"

 _"_ _Affirmative,"_ said LaForge. _"He's all set. Just say the word._ "

Data typed into his console. "The holo-program is ready to initiate."

"Make it so," Picard ordered. Everyone fell silent with the exception of beeping from the various stations around the bridge. "Let's get a visual," said Picard.

The expanse of space was now dominated by the fiery glow of the star. Spinning directly ahead of them was the very convincing holo-program of

"Computer where is Allen Harrow?" asked Riker.

"Allen Harrow is not on board the Enterprise," replied the computer confidently.

Picard and Riker shared a glance. If the ship's computer was fooled into believing Harrow was not on board, Claudia and the Eve should be fooled as well.

Picard held his breath and sat forward in his chair. Suddenly the air on the bridge seemed to shimmer and he felt his skin ripple strangely.

* * *

"Captain," said Data. "The Eve has phased out of the confines of the Enterprise."

"Damage report," Picard said getting to his feet, eyes fixed on the view screen.

"Sensors detect no discernible damage, Captain. Structural integrity is at one hundred percent," Worf reported.

Amazing. She had departed the Enterprise, _through_ the hull of the Enterprise without causing any further damage. On screen the Eve reappeared instantly, floating next to the holo of Harrow. The looming fiery red background of the star seemed to become richer. Picard thought he could see the swirling corona of the sun. Even more disturbing was that the Enterprise and now the Eve were being pulled at increasing velocity toward the star.

"What is the status of our shield strength?"

"Sir, shields are holding. However, we continue to be pulled toward the star."

"Engage the impulse engines," shouted Picard.

"Chief Engineer LaForge reports the impulse engines are currently unresponsive," reported Data evenly.

"Status LaForge? We need those engines back online." Riker stood with his arms dangling at his sides; fingers twitching unconsciously.

" _Sir…"_ came LaForge's voice, sounding crestfallen. " _Impulse engines are down and_ _I'll need at least ten minutes to get the warp engines ready."_

"That's time we don't have," snapped Picard.

Riker frowned. "Make it five minutes, Geordi, we're collapsing into that star."

"Captain," said Troi suddenly, getting up from her seat. "Look!" She pointed wide-eyed at the view screen.

Picard and the others turned their attention to the view screen which showed the Eve had edged up next to the hologram of Harrow. The hologram seemed to flicker briefly.

"What's happening?" Picard demanded. "What's wrong with the holo-program?"

"The integrity of Doctor Harrow's transporter pattern has been minimally compromised by the environment of space, Captain," said Data.

"She's figuring it out," Riker murmured. "We're in it now."

LaForge's frantic voice came over the channel. _"Sir it was Doctor Harrow…he pulled the masking circuits off of his suit, and made a run for it. Security is trying to stop him before he—"_

"Before he what?" shouted Picard.

 _"_ _No! Get away from that hatch,"_ Geordi was now shouting.

"She must have sensed the real Harrow was still present on the Enterprise when he sabotaged the plan, Captain," said Troi.

"Goddamn him!" Picard paced backward. "Security, do you have him yet?"

"Negative, sir," came an unknown voice. "He's locked himself inside one of the emergency airlocks."

 _He's absolutely insane._ Picard stared at the view screen, now re-focused on the safety of the ship.

As though still exercising caution, the Eve attempted to bump the hologram lightly, and the nose of the ship passed right through the hologram. Turning fully toward the Enterprise, the Eve powered its lights on.

"Captain, the Eve is firing on us," reported Worf. The ship shook with the impact of the invisible energy pulse.

There were no evasive maneuvers to be had without propulsion. "Return fire," said Picard.

"The Eve is continuing to fire on us, sir."

"Fire at will." They watched as a spread of photon torpedoes and phasers shot outward toward the Eve.

"Direct hits, Captain," Worf indicated. "However, the Eve continues to advance on us," he warned.

"Captain," said Data with his usual calm, "I estimate less than ten minutes before we are unable to escape the gravitational pull of the star. When we were a safer distance away from the star, the principal risk was the shockwave which will occur upon the final collapse. But if we do not escape the gravitational pull, we will not live to experience the shockwave."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

By now they would realize what he was doing. But it didn't matter anymore. He was on his way. Sweat poured down his forehead inside his helmet. The reading inside the suit showed it was properly pressurized, and he would have enough air for 45 minutes. He did not expect that he would be in space for that long, but it was some comfort nonetheless. He looked down at his suit. It was a simple spacesuit. No propulsion mechanism to speak of. It was an unfortunate complication, but one it was too late to avoid. He heard the security personnel shouting at him, and there appeared to be a last ditch attempt to open the inner airlock door. He had always generally questioned the intelligence of security personnel; but this made his estimation fall even lower.

He slammed a control on the side of the outer door. The airlock was now bathed in red light. _"Warning. Compartmental Depressurization in 20 seconds,"_ warned the computer. The screaming of the guards intensified, but now they would know they could not stop him. Not without killing themselves in the process. Harrow moved closer to the outer airlock door and sunk down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest tightly. He wasn't certain which position would be the best to achieve maximum velocity, so he settled for folding himself up as small as possible.

The countdown from ten began, and he said a silent goodbye to the only person he had cared about on this ship. "Be safe, Beverly," he said shakily. His voice sounded strange and hollow inside his suit. He was finally alone again, and a stomach churning fear closed in around him.

He closed his eyes, and then forced them open again as the hatch opened quickly. He was blown outward, somersaulting over and over. His breathing was rapid and sounded too fast to be coming from his own chest. He vomited inside his helmet as the relentless spinning continued without pause. He shut his eyes from the glare of the sun but could feel the light felt the skin on his face and body burn instantly from the radiation, and he knew if he survived, the remainder of his life would not be pleasant. The impact of hitting something hard reverberated through his body, and he blacked out.

* * *

"He's suicidal," Riker whispered. Picard stood silently by his side, his posture rigid, as they both stared at the forward screen.

"No," said Troi, walking to join them. "He's determined to live, if only for a little while longer." She stared wide-eyed at the screen waiting with the rest of them for something to happen.

"Shields are at sixty percent, Captain," Data reported.

 _"Warning,"_ reported the ship's computer. _"Gamma radiation levels are now hazardous. Human exposure must be minimized immediately."_

* * *

Allen Harrow awoke with a start, but because his head felt like it was 100 pounds, he could not lift it. His body ached, and he knew he had at a minimum, severe radiation poisoning. With some effort he rolled onto his back and squinted at the purplish lights above him. He blinked, once, twice and realized that he was on the Eve; inside the forward airlock. Claudia must have grabbed him with the tractor beam and brought him in. He remembered very little prior to leaving the Enterprise, and considered that this was probably a good thing. He smiled with sunburnt lips, and struggled to get to his feet. He stumbled to the inner airlock, and hit the button. An alarm sounded briefly and the door hissed open. Stepping out into the corridor, the door shut behind him and he reached up to unhook his helmet, pulling it off with a hiss. He staggered forward toward the bridge.

There was a hiss, and Claudia's now completely reptilian form emerged from the wall. She scampered toward him on four legs and then with some effort rose up on two legs to face him. She moved her head back and forth and her tongue flicked out briefly, testing the air. Allen stood still. "Have you come to try and kill me again, Allen?" Her voice was gravelly, almost unrecognizable. She looked down at his hand. "You have no weapons."

He shook his head. "No. I've come to take you home," he said, taking a chance, by walking by her. He needed to reach the bridge.

"Home?" behind him her voice sounded full of hope. "We'll go together?"

"Yes," he said, slipping behind the helm. He began to punch in coordinates.

Claudia's eyes narrowed moving behind him. "Is this another trick?"

"No, it's no trick, Claudia," he assured her quietly.

"How do you know the way?" Her reptilian eyes blinked quickly.

"I just realized it," he said, turning around to face her. He stood up. "Claudia, I am so sorry. For everything."

She trembled and reached out to him. "You are burnt…from the sun's radiation. You are dying," she said.

He nodded. "It doesn't matter anymore. We'll be home soon. Do you want to go?"

"Yes, but only if we can be as one," she said and reached out to embrace him. He closed his eyes but didn't move away from her. The effect was not as painful as he expected, perhaps because he was already in so much pain. He opened his eyes, and his vision seemed different, somehow segmented into shades of grey and green. He looked down between him and could no longer see a difference between their bodies. His arms appeared to shimmer with green scales, as they disappeared into her body. The last thing he truly felt was the jerking forward of the ship and then the sensation of free-falling.

* * *

"Mr. LaForge…now would be a good time," said Picard.

 _"_ _Stand by,"_ came the reply.

"LaForge!"

 _"_ _Got it, sir! Warp in five, four, three, two, one…."_

Just before the screen turned bright from the warp field distortion, just before the engines kicked in, Picard watched as the Eve's engines powered up sending the small ship barreling into the sun. He gripped the back of Data's chair as the warp engines took them out of danger.

"We have warped safely away, Captain," Data announced. "Sensors report the star is finalizing its collapse. The core reaction should occur within minutes, sir."

Shaking his head, almost unable to believe what he had just seen, he walked slowly back to his command chair and sat down. "Keep the same course and heading and increase speed to warp eight," he said. "No looking back," he said.

****************** The End **********************


	37. Chapter 37

**Epilogue**

Jean-Luc Picard brushed the soil away carefully with the delicate tool. Leaning down on his hands and knees he blew on the tiny object. It was thoroughly embedded in the flat rock. He pried at it with his index finger, and to his surprise it sprung loose, rolling on the ground toward him. His eyes narrowed in surprise. It had seemed oblong when in the ground, but now the obsidian colored object rolled toward him like a black marble, the kind the ancient humans used in childhood games. He hadn't read anything about this artifact changing shape. He moved his hand to intercept it, just as he heard footsteps behind him. _Uh oh._

"Jean-Luc, I've been looking all over for you!" He turned around, wiping the dust out of his eyes. Beverly Crusher stood just a few meters away from him with her hands on her hips. Nearby a small hover car sat suspended over the sandy ground.

He swallowed and pushed himself stiffly to his feet, attempting an apologetic smile. He had promised to go to dinner with her that evening. And it seemed she was already dressed for the occasion. His eyes surveyed her, attempting not to appear too inappropriate. A dark green dress clung provocatively to her hips. She seemed to notice his gaze had drifted away from her face and she raised an eyebrow. In an attempt to remain intimidating, she folded her arms over her chest, which he noted, did nothing to hide her beauty.

"I don't think we have the same concept of what a vacation is supposed to be, Jean-Luc," she remarked. "You're filthy, by the way," she added, but her mouth twitched in amusement.

He took off his hat and slapped it against his pant leg, and a cloud of dust rose up. With his other hand he squeezed the small sphere inside his hand, and it grew immediately warm. Absently he dropped it into his pants' pocket, and smiled at her again. "Are you still upset that I invited Data? Now I know he can be tiring Beverly, but of course he's like a living encyclopedia when it comes to archaeology facts—"

 _No kidding_ , thought Beverly. She put her hand up to stop his sad excuses. "Jean-Luc, you invited Data…that was bad enough-and then somehow Will and Deanna ended up coming along as well."

He made a face and scuffed the ground with his boot. "I cannot take responsibility for everyone tagging along," he objected. "Besides, when has Riker ever passed up an opportunity to come to Risa?"

Beverly watched him, and realized she could not remain angry at him. Just a short car's ride away were the lush outskirts of Risa's capital city, and then dinner and afterwards, who knows? She smiled and grabbed his hand leading him back to the hover car.

She hopped into the driver's seat. He eyed her somewhat nervously. "You know how to drive this type of vehicle?" he asked warily. She shot him an insulted look and put her hand on the console.

"I drove it out here to find you, didn't I?" she shot back. He nodded, because of course she had. She looked at him, as the single engine powered up in the back with a whine. "How did you get all the way out here anyway?"

He shrugged. "I walked," he said. "Very meditative," he added, putting his hat back on, as the vehicle pulled away. Beverly rolled her eyes. Picard stuck his hand back in his pocket, and the black object warmed again, and almost seemed to conform to his hand. He felt a rush of excitement and couldn't wait to verify if the object was indeed what he thought it was. Glancing over at Beverly Crusher again, he reconsidered. Perhaps it could wait a bit. After all, they _did_ have plans.

As they began to zoom away, she glanced at him again. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Will said to stop by his room after dinner."

Picard sighed. It was bad enough that he was interfering with their plans. Now Riker too? "Why?" he asked.

"He said he had something to give you. What did he call it?" she asked herself, trying to remember. "Oh…it was a Horga—a Horga'hn, that's it. He described it as a 'weird little statue', but wouldn't say anymore."

"Hmm," said Picard. "Sounds like one of his usual completely useless gifts," he said.

"Probably," she agreed, putting her hand on his leg. He reached down and squeezed her hand as the violet sun began to dip into the hills behind them, bringing on the evening.

* * *

 **Hi again, thanks for reading and reviewing this story. To answer Sash's question, there was a sequel to this story called "A King Imprisoned", related to the artifact found in this last chapter. Honestly not sure if I will repost that one, unless requested ( ) but I would be open to writing a different spinoff from Ghost Ship. I can imagine though that people get annoyed with me starting multiple stories and not finishing, but habits are hard to break. Also since I rarely stay up until 5 a.m. anymore, I find I have less time to write. Thanks again...-PP**


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